Abide
by MsBBSue
Summary: There were new rules in this world. One had to look after oneself before all if they wished to survive. Stealing was no longer a petty crime but a way of living for those in dire situations—though nearly all were in dire times. It had never been harder to see what was right and what was wrong while one was surrounded by so much atrocity. Friend or foe; a stranger was dangerous.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

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**Chapter One**

She runs; her breathing smooth and legs strong and sure. She had stopped panicking now—she had pushed those fears she had in the beginning aside. Now was not the time to be thinking about _them_ but about the others—about the people. Lassie gasps as a walker presses its mangled face against the fence she runs along. Months ago, she would have screamed—she would have hollered for help, but, now, she knew she was the only person she could count on. She was the only one who had a say as to what became of her.

Lassie can hear the men chasing from behind hollering and cursing. In another life, they were good people—hell, deep inside everyone, there was a good person. But due to this lifestyle—due to cold, raw survival—everyone was a foe. No one could be trusted. Lassie reaches the end of the fence and quickly dips under as Matt pulls open the cut wires.

As she straightens, she doesn't even look back to see if the boy is following. That was one of her rules; never look back when there was a risk behind. Looking back left one's front exposed, vulnerable even. Getting a view of what one was running from was even, at times, enough to stop a person in their tracks. She didn't want to risk it—she _couldn't_ risk it.

She furrows her brow as she hears the men behind hollering. A gun shoots and the bullet sparks on a car's hood. Lassie dips at the sudden shot, but the warning is not enough to slow her down.

She runs for as long as she can—which had improved dramatically since it all started. Before, she could barely make it three blocks; now, she could run for miles it seemed. As she leaves the small town and heads down the road, her head snaps back; there was no longer a threat.

Matt runs in a hop-skip-jump formation. His right leg was a prosthetic and a terrible fit at that. When she first found out, she believed he would slow her down. However, seeing what he was capable of now, she felt at times _she_ was the one slowing _him_ down.

Lassie smirks as she slows her pace. "Gotta love the chase," she says; her voice is near a breathless whisper. Matt narrows his eyes at her and then gives a grin back.

"Did you see their faces?" Matt asks as they slow their run down to a trot. Lassie shakes her head and Matt does an impression; his face stretching and mouth widening as his hand rise shaking. "You scared the shit out of them," he says before a laugh.

"All with an empty clip," she says haughtily as she waves the Beretta 9mm. "A li'l girl with a gun—ha! I had 'em screamin' and whinin' like, "Don't shoot me! Take what you want but let us live!" God, I love that!" She tosses her head back as Matt laughs. Truth be told, Lassie wouldn't hurt a fly. There was not a bad bone in her body, but she had one thing going for her; she was a good pretender.

As the laughter dwindles and their trot becomes a walk, Matt shakes his head faintly. He didn't like stealing—Lassie knew he didn't—but it was either take or die. "What'd you get?" he asks after a moment.

Lassie's eyes shoot up to him and then she swings her pack off one shoulder. "A couple Tylenol, antibiotics, 'n' a few mystery cans," she says as her hands rifle through the backpack. "Oh," she says as her hand feels around and pulls out something that stops Matt dead in his tracks.

"Is that—,"

"Glorious, milky-smooth chocolate?" Lassie says with a smile and slit eyes. She looks down at the folded bar and examines it. "It _looks_ like chocolate," she says with a slow nod. She brings it to her nose. "It _smells_ like chocolate," she adds as Matt's mouth waters. Her fingers gingerly pull the wrapper from the sweet treat. She breaks off a corner and pops it in her mouth. Lassie's eyes roll back. "Oh, it's definitely chocolate, buddy boy," she says with the bit tucked into her cheek.

"Give me some—,"

"You don't want this—,"

"Lassie; do you know how long it's been since I've had _anything_ like that?" he asks as he reaches for the bar.

Lassie pulls it away with a shriek. "I did the work to get it!"

"You can't eat it all!" Matt whines back and Lassie smiles.

"I _can_," she says with an arched eyebrow. "'N' I just might," she adds with a sinister smirk. Matt furrows his brow as he looks back at her.

He shakes his head and looks away as his hand runs down the back of his neck. "Man, I'll remember this—,"

"Calm down," she says as she breaks a piece off the bar and pushes it into his palm. "Ain't no use in joking with you these days. Your funny bone must've broke when you feel from the roof of that car," she says through the side of her mouth.

They had been looking for a place to stay for the night when Matt took his fall. He decided the extra height of an SUV would be enough to scope out a safe place. What he didn't put into consideration was the fact it had been raining all day and that his prosthetic couldn't feel the slick metal beneath him. As he landed on the ground, Lassie couldn't decide whether she should be concerned or laugh at his misjudgement. When he rose, she knew laughter was the only reaction he would get out of her.

"I still have that stupid bump," Matt says as he rubs the back of his head. "And it wasn't _that_ funny when it happened," he defends. "I could have been seriously injured."

"Okay, I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, Robocop," Lassie says with a smirk and Matt rolls his eyes. The girl had finally become comfortable enough with what he lacked that she could poke fun at it; Matt, however, wasn't sure if he liked it or not at times.

"Where to now?" he asks as they continue down the gravel road.

Lassie shrugs as her eyes look to the fading sun. Darkness would be on them like white on rice in a short half hour. "We could chance it," she says. They never traveled at night. Strange things always seemed to come out in the blackening hours.

Matt makes a face. Suddenly, he raises his brow as if struck with an idea. "Wasn't there a barn a little further down here?"

"Sleepin' in hay ain't exactly how I expected my day would end," Lassie says with distaste.

"What do you suggest then?" Matt asks with a furrowed brow.

"Set up a nice little area in the woods… maybe have a fire 'n' cook up one of them mystery cans," Lassie says with a shrug. To her, it was simple—almost like going camping with her brothers. Lassie's lips flatten; city boys didn't think that way. If they were away from a comfortable place to rest their heads for too long they started panicking. Her brothers would have given Matt a hard time. He was too soft for their liking; too city and not enough country.

Lassie takes a deep breath. She still needed to find her family… but what were the chances they were still alive? Matt had already given up hope on his uncle and mom and he had only been separated from them for two months. Lassie was going on nearly six without even an inkling of one of them being alive.

"What do we do about the walkers?" Matt asks.

Lassie almost cringes with the name. Giving those _things_ names was one of the hardest things to do—she preferred the simple ones; lame-brains, biters, even roamers and lurkers. The name _walker_ just made them sound so… unmanageable.

"Take turns with watch—like we did our first night," _together_. They had met after the walkers first appeared. Their meeting was by chance, yet it was fate that they stayed together. Neither of them could have survived without the other.

Matt lets out a long sigh. "Who takes first watch?" he mumbles knowing he would lose the argument.

Lassie pats his back and smirks. "I'll do it, you big baby." She shakes her head. "It's a wonder your still around with all the moanin' and groanin' you do." Lassie narrows her eyes. "One of these days I might mistake you as one of 'em walkers."

Matt rolls his eyes as the two veer off the road and across the field that stands in their way of the tree line. "If I remember correctly, Lassie, you complain just as much—if not—more than I do," he says.

Lassie raises her brow and shakes her head. "I don't ever remember complainin'—,"

"Your ears must be immune to it then."

Lassie looks to her friend as the boy smirks at her with his dark eyes narrowed. She smacks Matt in the gut making him keel over. "Next time it'll be a closed fist," she warns half-heartedly.

It was a difficult time to laugh and smile. It had been months since Lassie had cracked even a grin, but Matt made it easy for her as she did for him. They were dead near the same age and even had a few common interests. When they would talk to each other, it almost seemed like the highways and fields disappeared and they were in a normal place having a normal conversation two normal teens would have. That is, until one of them brought up a threat bringing them back to their reality. Lassie runs a hand through her inch long hair and looks to the grass.

"It'll be back in no time," Matt says as he keeps his eyes on the horizon. The girl had been playing with the little hair she had left since it was first buzzed—he didn't even need to see her touching it to know she was.

Lassie nods. "My hair grows pretty fast…" She makes a face. "Maybe it's best to have it short though," she adds after a second.

"What do you mean?" Matt asks as his eyes look to her through their corners.

"I mean—," Lassie's hand drop to her side, "—before…" she gestures her hands not willing to bring up the name of _that_ hellhole, "—my hair would get caught. Mostly in burs 'n' twigs… but sometimes biters would pull at it or get pretty near to doing it." Lassie furrows her brow. As much as she liked long hair, fashion was no longer something that mattered. "Shorter is safer," she says with a nod.

Matt shakes his head as if tossing long locks in the wind as his short curls bounce with the motion. "I happen to like long hair," he says before raising his hand above his shoulder and fluffing his imaginary long locks. Lassie lets out a laugh and Matt smirks. "One day, I'll be in one of those shampoo commercials, _then_ we'll see who's laughing," he says before a chuckle.

It was a pipe dream thinking the world would one day get back to normal. Their normal was gone; it died with lost TV broadcasts and recorded radio transmissions. There was no _normal_ left; only breathing and moving. Lassie smirks at the thought of Matt having long dark curls puffed out like an eighties hair-metal band's front man.

It was okay to dream; they were allowed that even if their wake was a nightmare.

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**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

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**Chapter Two**

Lassie's eyes shoot open as her veins sting with ice. Four people stand around her as she lies on a metal gurney motionless. Her mouth struggles to open let alone let out a scream. She is powerless; as weak as a newborn baby. Just blinking drains her liquefied energy.

"It'll all be over in a few minutes," a voice says as her eyes shut. Suddenly, she hears a buzzing and then feels vibration on her scalp.

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Lassie shoots up; her eyes wide with terror and heart pounding so hard she believes her chest will be bruised from the inside out. She takes a few shaky breaths before realizing where she is and that she is, in fact, safe. Lassie sighs and lowers her head back down to her make-shift backpack pillow.

"Had another dream about it?" Matt asks in a sleepy voice from across the burning embers. Lassie's hands hold her forehead before she gives a faint nod. The boy gives a few blinks before straightening his back. It was supposed to be his turn for watch. Usually, Lassie would give him grief about falling asleep on watch… but not today.

"I wonder when they'll stop," Matt says before a soft sigh. He had witnessed her fits near every night; sometimes she would scream before she could wake, other times her eyes would open with stark fear only to calm after she came to her senses.

He knew the fear. He knew it all too well.

Lassie rolls to her side and shakes her head. She didn't like talking about it—it made her chest constrict and lungs burn for air. Her tired eyes watch the bark on one of the surrounding trees. The sun was coming up; there was no point in trying to fall back asleep.

"My uncle used to be in the army," Matt says as he readjusts his leg and the remainder. "He had this thing… post-traumatic… post-tramatic something… PTSD is what my mom called it, I think." He shrugs. "Maybe that's why you can't sleep right," he adds. His eyes watch the lump of Lassie for a reaction but he receives none. "I heard dogs can help—,"

"We can barely feed ourselves; how you think we'd be able to look after a dog?" Lassie asks as she rolls back onto her back. She shakes her head. "Not to mention, the world is kinda ruined. Unless you can find a runnin' pet store, I doubt we'll find a dog roamin' 'round—even if we did, it'd probably chew our faces off thinkin' we were one of those walkers." Her words were powerful and filled with anger; directed at who or what, Lassie was unsure.

"It's just a thought," Matt says quietly with his eyes lowering to the embers.

Lassie furrows her brow and sighs as she sits back up. Her eyes catch Matt as he fights a battle within himself; to show emotion or keep it buried down. "I'm sorry," Lassie says with a gentle voice. She shakes her head again. "It's just…" Her lips press together tightly. "If we start thinkin' like that we're not gonna survive long. We're alone," she says simply. "Whatever's wrong with us—what-whatever's wrong with other people—it don't matter no more. Everyone's just trying to keep from turning into one of those _things_." She scratches behind her ear as her short hair tickles. "We'll be fine as long as we have food 'n' water… everythin' else... everythin' else is an unattainable luxury—dogs included."

Matt watches as the girl rises from the ground and picks her bag up. She opens the zipper and tosses a mystery can at him before tossing a multi-tool his way. "If it's beans, I don't want any," she says with her lip curling slightly.

"Where are you going?" Matt asks before trying to pry the can open.

Lasses looks out towards where the sun peaks through the trees. "I was gonna check if there was a shack or trailer around. Might find more supplies for us," she says.

"You want to leave me alone?" Matt asks as if slightly offended. Lassie rolls her eyes as his lips curve into a smirk. "If you find anymore pain killers, let me know," he says.

"Your leg's still bothering you?" she asks as she takes a step to him.

"It's fine… just rubbed raw from the run," Matt says as he rubs where his leg now ended.

Lassie furrows her brow. She knew it wasn't a good idea for him to push himself. She needed him to be able to run when they needed to—whether or not he wanted to _earn his keep_. This wasn't about stroking one's ego; it was about staying alive.

"I'll try to find more paddin'," she says with a low nod.

"See you, maybe?" Matt says as she straightens. It was something she used to say to her brothers because she never knew when or if they would come visit her again. Matt had now adopted the phrase as his own.

Answering _yes_ meant there was no chance the other wouldn't come back; but they both understood the dangers of leaving alone. _Maybe_ left it open; one could only hope for the best and _maybe_ meant there was still hope.

Lassie gives him a small smile. "Maybe," she says with another nod before turning towards the trees and heading off.

As she moves through the trees, the hoodie she wears gets caught in the wiry branches. In the beginning, it wasn't so bad; a few tugs here and there and she was free—but now, the trees were so dense that it seemed she was burning more energy on ripping through branches than walking. She gives one final tug and lands herself in a small grove.

Her feet stumble over a fallen branch making her land on her knees before the opening. Lassie's eyes shoot up and survey the area; nothing out of the ordinary. With her hands pushing her back up, she catches a glimpse of a slit in her sleeve. As she gets to her feet, her hand touches the new hole; her eyes hooded and mouth unwilling to give a frown.

It was silly. It was just a sweater; cheap material only meant to live a few months before the threads loosened and made it fall apart. Lassie swallows as her throat burns. She had lost so many people; seen so much death; yet a hole in her hoodie seemed to be the breaking point. Lassie tears her eyes from the material and wipes away the building tears before they can fall.

The sweater had been one of her brothers'. He had given it to her before she left home. It was just supposed to keep her warm—but this material did more for her than that. It was comfort—a symbol of better times; of what life once was. She wore it dead near everyday even when it was too hot.

Lassie shakes her head and treads on. There was no point in dwelling on such things. Crying about a rip would solve nothing.

She pushes the sleeves up to her elbows as she wanders the grove. Flowers blossom everywhere—nothing too large, mostly small purple pedals and yellow bell-like blossoms. Lassie never really cared much for flowers. There was no use for them other than to make something pretty. The girl smirks as a memory of her eldest brother placing a chalky white flower behind her ear plays. There was no context before or after that memory; she merely remembered that moment. Lassie couldn't have been older than six at the time—but that moment stuck out to her. Maybe it was because that was the first time anyone had ever told her she was beautiful.

Lassie lets out a dry chuckle. She'd like to see that man say it now. Covered from head to toe in dirt and filth, her hair so short people had a hard time deciphering whether she was male or female—he would probably have smacked her upside the head and told her to clean herself up. To him, Lassie was his _li'l lady_.

Lassie pushes through a bush's branches. The grove was a nice area—but it left her exposed to those both living and dead. Not to mention, there was nothing there aside from grass and flowers; no food, no water, not even salvageable materials.

As she wanders through the trees, she keeps her mind on which way she travels and for how long. The last time she was lost in a woods it had cost her a life. She wasn't willing to let another person die because of her misjudgements.

With her feet suddenly hitting gravel, Lassie decides to follow the narrow road. Chances were it would lead to some kind of house or maybe even a gas station. If it were secluded enough, there might even be a chance it was still untouched by scavenging hands like her own.

Lassie kicks a rock down the road, the only thing capable of keeping her mind away from memories. It seemed everywhere she went there was always something that would trigger them—whether it was from before or after, she never really knew until it happened, though she preferred the memories from before. There was comfort in those, yet residual unavoidable sadness.

She gives the stone one last kick as her eyes hit a green rusted car. The stone shoot up and hits the trunk of the vehicle unintentionally. Lassie dips low, her heart pounding but face like stone. Quickly, she dips into the trees hoping the thin cover will be enough to hide her from whatever threat may have heard the noise.

Lassie's hand absentmindedly reaches for her pistol. It was more of a reflex than anything now; if a situation didn't feel right, the weapon on her persons was instantly readied. That was another rule; be the first ready to shoot.

The girl takes a deep breath, her eyes narrow as she hears something dragging—first on grass and then on the gravel. Her neck extends as she attempts for a better view; by the sounds of things, it was a walker or two. Lassie dips low as she catches the glimpse of a face gaunt and ripped open. It was definitely a walker; no human being could look so ghastly. Now the only question remaining was; how many.

The walker's boney body slides along the car as it makes its way further down the gravel road. Usually, they traveled in packs when they roamed. This one either died nearby, or it was ahead of the pack. Lassie takes a deep breath as it veers off the road and onto the grass towards her selected hiding stop.

Its breathing is haggard; a severely asthmatic smoker would sound like a kitten's purr compared to this. Blood drips from the corners of what's left of its mangled mouth; its milky white eyes stare at nothing as it treads further.

Lassie furrows her brow as it turns its head her way. She needed to wait a little longer before she could tell if there were more. Her weight shifts and a twig snaps beneath her feet. Lassie feels a scream bubble in the back of her throat—but her mind will not let it become vocalized.

The walker creeps towards her; its elbows bent at its waist as it stumbles slightly. It stops right before her—only a few leaves and branches between them. Its face presses through the leaves and Lassie can wait no longer.

She holds the Beretta 9mm by the barrel and swings the grip in the walker's face. It falls back; not dead, only pissed off. As it lets out a growl, Lassie jumps out of the brush and straddles it. One hand holds its leather neck down as her other continuously bashes its face in with the gun until nothing but a mush of red jelly and sallow skin is left.

For a moment, Lassie is not here; she is above the situation looking down as if she were a bird in the sky. It was always like that when she killed them; it was like her mind couldn't process the events and just dipped out and let her body go on autopilot. As she comes back, her eyes look down at the walker and then to her gun. The Beretta 9mm would need a good cleaning after this.

As she takes a breath, she rises from the body and looks back the way it came from. It was alone. The person it once was must have died in or around the rusted car. Lassie tucks the gun back into her belt as her nose scrunches with the walker's stench.

In the beginning, walkers had the bittersweet scent of death; the same smell an elderly man let off days before he met his maker. Now, due to rotting and starvation, they smelt foul—carcasses that had been sitting in the sun for too long mixed with excrement found only in sewers. Most times, they smelt worse than they looked; their stench was powerful enough to gag a maggot and send a fly into distress.

Lassie makes a face of distaste as the scent sticks in her nose. She makes her way back up the gravel road; stopping as her eyes peer into the abandoned car's window only to see nothing but empty boxes. She sucks her teeth. Either the owner took everything or someone else had the same idea Lassie had. Her chin lowers as she stands at the car's side.

There were two options at this point. She could keep going; maybe there would be something at the end of the road—maybe not—or she could head back to Matt and call it a lost cause. Though Lassie's head told her to go back, her gut told her to keep going. She lets out a sigh and continues on the gravel road. The battle between the two was always won by her gut. Lassie was too stubborn to let anything else win—even when the other option was more logical.

It was her weakness; her bane.

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**Thank you guest reviewer I Love Fanfics. I'm glad you enjoyed it! I hope you continue to read on as the story progresses :)**

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**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

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**Chapter Three**

Making her way around the bend, a smile pulls at Lassie's usual composed face. A soft chuckle releases from her as she see the modest cabin; one and a half stories, white chipped siding, a window with a long vertical crack in the glass to the right of the main entrance, a weed infested flowerbed up front, and a stoop before the pine door.

She slowly makes her way around the cabin, not willing to get too excited before knowing exactly what she was dealing with—or who she may be dealing with. As she reaches behind the structure, she sees the white brick of a chimney and nearly jumps out of her skin. It had been so long since they stayed in a house that had a source of heat little long a fireplace. If it proved to not be cemented in, it would be nice to have warmth while they slept _indoors_ for a change.

As Lassie turns away from the cabin and looks out towards the yard, her heart sinks. A tire sways sadly in the cooling late summer breeze. The girl's lips flatten into a thin line. Chances were the owners had abandoned this place and left for the cities when hell was beginning to rise. Lassie shakes her head as she turns away. Unless they believed the country was safer.

Lassie's hand rises and runs through her cropped hair and slides onto the back of her neck as she takes in a deep breath. She could go into the cabin… but there was a chance something else was in there too. She furrows her brow. Lassie never went into places without a spotter—even if that spotter had only one leg. She takes another breath and chews her lip. It was another of her many rules; in a new environment, the buddy system was to be live and active.

Lassie's hand drops to her side as she lets out a loud frustrated sigh. She couldn't break her own rules—there had to be something that acted as a law in this world. She _needed_ the rules; they provided organization in a time when chaos was more than evident.

The girl lowers her chin and begins back the way she came. Whether she liked it or not, there were moments—such as entering unknown territory—where she would need someone else. As much as she hated it, Lassie couldn't always rely on herself. A misjudged step, a noise unheard by her ears, movement undetected by her own eyes—a second body could pick up on things that she may have overlooked or missed entirely. _That_ was why she needed Matt. It wasn't because of the companionship or even because he was the closest thing to a friend she had; he was a second pair of senses that she could use to her advantage in exchange for her loyalty.

The girl barely reacts as she passes the mashed faced walker from earlier. She learnt long ago that showing fear only made things worse; whether it was fear of a walker or a lashing from an extension-chord given by her father. Either way, fear accomplished nothing; a walker was still going to eat her, just as her drunken father would still beat her. Tears, screaming—none of it stopped the inevitable, but running prolonged it… maybe it even helped.

Lassie stuffs her hands into the hoodie's front pocket. Running was how she ended up separated from her family in the first place. It was a few months before the great and terrible decline of the human race; she had just gotten home from school. Her father was drunk off hooch as per usual and wanted her to do something. Lassie couldn't remember what it was—a chore, maybe a favour; it didn't matter. When she refused, the man fumed with anger. He pushed her against the wall and barked in her face incoherent words about respecting her elders. Lassie showed little emotion; she had managed to leave her body just as she did when it came to attacking walkers.

She didn't feel him throw her to the floor of the trailer. She didn't even feel the slap he sent her way. It must have hurt though, because tears dampened her cheeks. When he brought out the extension-chord, Lassie knew the only way she would be leaving the situation was with welts running up and down her back and legs. She was right. The only time he stopped was when he realized his cup was empty. As he left to refill it, Lassie took the chance; she shot out the door like a bullet and never looked back.

Lassie pushes through the trees and bushes and she furrows her brow. A prosthetic leg sits next to the fire pit, but no Matt. She steps back into the safety of the thick bush. If he had gone somewhere, why would he leave his leg behind?

Lassie's heart throbs in the back of her throat with panic. She purses her lips together and lets out a high short lived whistle and waits. Her eyes look around the camp wildly for any sign of a struggle; ruffled leaves, kicked up dirt—anything.

Finally, a whistle sounds and Lassie lets out the breath she's been holding.

"I wasn't sure," Matt says as he hops his way out from behind a tree.

Lassie shakes her head as she steps out of her own hiding place. "How far did you think you'd get without your leg?" she asks with a smirk.

Matt lowers himself to the ground with the aid of Lassie. He grips the prosthetic and shrugs. "It would've taken me too long to try to get it back on…" He shakes his head and lets out a sigh. "I guess there's no good time to have it off," he adds with slight bitterness. The boy was still figuring out his new body's advantages and disadvantages. At times the disadvantages seemed more than what he could handle. "Did you find anything?" Matt asks as he looks up at the girl.

"A car," she says softly as her eyes look to the trees.

"Anything in it?" he asks.

Lassie shakes her head. "Empty boxes…" Her brow furrows. "There was also a cabin," she adds. Matt nods. "I didn't go in, but it looked okay," she says. "It might be a nice alternative to sleeping on the ground outside or in a barn."

Matt nods again. His stump hurt; he took the prosthetic off because with the swelling of what remained of his leg couldn't stand the pressure of even a butterfly kiss on the raw skin. There was no way he would be able to make the journey—no matter how far—but he couldn't tell Lassie that. Matt didn't want to be the reason they slept on dirt for another cold night.

"Are you up for it?"

His dark eyes shoot up to Lassie as she looks down at him gently. Matt gives her a quick grin before his eyes dart to the ground. He hears Lassie lower herself beside him and he turns his head away slightly. "Yeah," he nearly whispers.

"You hesitated," she says. Lassie shakes her head. "You know how I feel about hesitation, Matt."

"I'm sorry," Matt says quietly as he pulls his cargo shorts' leg up. Lassie winces at the swollen skin and suddenly feels her words came across too harsh. The stump was a deep red; no question needed about infection as yellowed puss sits where the stitches keep the skin pulled over.

"I should've taken the chair instead," Lassie says with a shake of her head.

Matt winces as he wraps the stained tensor bandage around his stump. "It was my call… I was thinking too far ahead… not about my current situation." A hiss escapes his lips as he eases the stump into the above the knee prosthetic. They had the choice of either a wheelchair or the prosthetic after running into a man looking for a few favours to be done. How the person managed to gain both items was unimportant. All Matt wanted was a chance to toss his crutches away; he wanted to _walk_ again.

"Take it off," Lassie says with a gentle tug on his arm. Matt furrows his brow. "It needs to breath… dry it out for a few hours." Lassie watches as the boy gingerly begins removing the prosthetic and dressing.

"What about the cabin?" he asks.

Lassie chews her lip for a second before tearing her eyes from the remains of his leg. "You can lean on me—,"

"Not again," Matt says with a stern shake of his head. "It's too much work for you—,"

"We're not runnin'," Lassie says with her brows raised. "We go at a steady pace. No need to burn more energy than needed." She takes a deep breath. "If one of us gets tired, we stop and take a break. We've got all the time in the world."

Matt makes a face and rolls his eyes. "You mean until sundown."

Lassie gives a smirk and rises with his prosthetic in her hand. "It's not that far," she says. "Come on—," her free hand reaches down at him, "—we're burning daylight anyway," she says. Matt takes her hand and she pulls him up. "Besides, there just might be a bed in there," she adds making him scoff.

Matt grunts as they take a step; his arm around Lassie's shoulders as hers holds his waist. "That'd be nice," he says with grin. "I'm calling it," he adds making Lassie make a face of distaste.

"I don't think so," she says with a shake of her head as she pushes away branches from their path. "I did the work." Matt smiles.

As they trek through the trees, Lassie keeps her eyes ahead. She can feel her heartbeat climb as panic settles in. There was no reason for the cause; Matt and she were safe. Lassie takes a deep breath and Matt turns his head to her only to have Lassie give a reassuring smile. The last time she had done this with him they had been running from their hell. They ran through the field like madmen—as if their freedom could be taken away… only because it could have been.

Matt was crying because the pain was too much and Lassie was doing her best to keep them going—it was horrible. Every move she made Matt hollered out in pain. Out of fear, Lassie clamped her hand over his mouth to silence him. She forced him to keep going even when she knew they were more than safe.

Lassie takes another breath and releases it with a bit of a shake. While she ran with him glued to her hip, all she could keep her mind on was getting out—to be able to see the daylight and not have to worry about what kind of sick thing the _doctor_ had come up with for them. Her mind wouldn't go towards _if_ they got caught because if they did there was no telling what their tomorrow would look like.

"I can put it back on," Matt says as he feels Lassie's muscle stiffen with anxiety.

Lassie keeps her eyes ahead and she give a weak shake of her head. "I'm fine," she says quietly.

He furrows his brow. "You're not fine… look at you," he says. Lassie continues to move forward and Matt stays in his spot making Lassie stumble slightly with the weight. "You need a break—,"

"No, I don't," Lassie says. She stares back at him and gives a long blink as he stays his ground. "We both know I can carry your weight, Matt," she says as her hand falls from his waist.

The boy takes a deep breath and looks to the ground. "_I_ need a break," he says firmly.

"No you don't," Lassie says.

Matt arches an eyebrow and narrows his eyes. "How would you know?"

"You wouldn't have said anythin'—,"

"I'm saying something now," he says with his eyes staring back at her. Lassie watches him with annoyance as he lowers himself gingerly to the leafy ground. Matt shakes his head. "You can't keep doing this, man," he says on a breath. "If you need to talk, spit it out. This… locking it up and throwing away the key thing isn't working." Matt reclines himself back. "We've both been through some messed up shit… there's no way things will ever be the same… but talking could help."

"I don't need to talk 'bout nothin'," Lassie says passively as her eyes stare out into the trees. They were a few feet from the grove; from there they would hit the road and then the car and then the cabin. Talking wasn't going to get them there; action—movement—would.

"Fine," Matt says with a cool nod. "I want to talk about it."

His jaw clenches as he turns his head slightly making the muscles in his neck strain. "It sucked when he took my leg," Matt says. The muscles relax and he scoffs. "Sucked even more to see it on that biter," he adds with a dark chuckle as if it were some kind of joke. "I thought I was going to die in there," Matt says quietly. "Never thought I'd be sitting out here in the middle of Butt-Fuck-Nowhere with some girl hell-bent on surviving." Lassie lowers her chin. "Thank God one of us is," he adds with a smirk.

Matt shakes his head again and the smirk is gone. "Before he brought you in, I thought I was the only one." He furrows his brow as Lassie stares down at him. "I was kind of glad see someone else…" Lassie looks away. "Not because there was another person he could make scream bloody murder… but… because I knew I wasn't alone."

Lassie turns away as she tries to keep every thought ever catalogued of that place away. She lowers her eyes to her feet and crosses her arms.

"What he did to us, Lassie… nobody should ever have to go through," Matt says as his eyes watch the back of her head. "There is no excuse for it—apocalypse or not—nothing justifies his actions." He takes a breath as Lassie wipes her nose. It was painful—for both of them—but Lassie didn't want him to know it hurt. She didn't want him to see her as weak—she was his protector. She _needed_ to be strong.

"When we broke out, I couldn't believe we were alive." He lowers his head. "I didn't want to be alive… not in a world where a man can cut off legs and sew them onto the dead—not where a man can test on people like they're lab-rats." Matt scoffs. "Lab-rats were probably treated better than we were." Matt chews his lip for a moment as Lassie keeps her back to him. "I'll be indebt to you until the day I die, Lassie. You got me out… but you're still in there. Let me help _you_ get out—"

"Can we stop now?" Lassie asks as she turns back to him. Matt furrows his brow and draws his chin back. "You're break's done. We're losin' daylight," she says coldly before reaching a hand down to him.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

**A nice long chapter for those of you who waited this ungodly amount of time.**

**My apologies. **

* * *

**Chapter Four**

"Where am I?" Lassie calls out to a figure. It stands with its back to her; a light hanging from the ceiling as its shadow stretches across her body. Lassie takes a nervous breath as moans and groans from walkers sound from all directions. Her eyes see nothing but the light and the silhouette of the man ahead of her as he stoops over a metal gurney.

"This will all be over shortly," he says in a soothing voice. Something about it makes Lassie's stomach churn and skin crawl.

Suddenly, the rev of a chainsaw sounds and Lassie attempts to cover her ears but her wrists won't budge under the chains that brace them above her head. Her mouth stretches open for a scream and she is sure her voice is gone as all she hears is the chainsaw's rev as it bites into whatever lies on the gurney before the man.

Blood sprits into the air to the rhythm of the revving and all Lassie can hear is the deep rattling growl of the chainsaw swallowing horrible screams and muffled hollers. As the figure straightens, Lassie shakes her head in vile disgust. The man drops the chainsaw and lifts something from the gurney as sobs sound from his direction. As Lassie's eyes focus on the thing he lifts, she turns her head away and dry heaves.

A leg bends lifelessly in his hands as he lets out a chuckle over the crying.

"I told you it would all be over shortly," he whispers patronizingly.

* * *

Lassie's eyes shoot open as hands shake her violently. She stiffens and then relaxes as her eyes adjust and see Matt before her.

"Sorry," she whispers as the fire crackles in the hearth. The cabin was far from untouched; anything capable of being scavenged was gone—all that remained was the furniture and a few blankets.

"You were screaming," Matt says as he turns his back to the flames. Lassie brings her hood over her head as she sits up. The boy takes a deep breath and lowers his chin as his belly growls. "I wish there was food in here," he says.

Lassie keeps her eyes on the fire. Matt had already eaten a can that day—that was more than she could say she ate. In the morning she would let him open another—but two in one day was asking for starvation.

"I'm sorry for that too," she says. It was her idea to stay at the cabin rather than look for supplies. It was her fault they were hungry.

"Don't be," Matt says with his cheek pinched up. "We have blankets and a door that locks… haven't had one of those in a dog's age."

"It's not food—,"

"It's security," Matt says with a furrowed brow. He takes a deep breath and tosses in another leg from a chair into the fireplace. "It's kind of nice not having to stay awake in case a walker comes creeping around," he says before a shrug. "It's almost like a sleepover," he adds with a bit of a smile.

"A sleepover with the livin' dead outside," Lassie says with an eyebrow arched and her nose curled.

"If we want to stay up late and watch scary movies, all we have to do is look out the window," he says before a pause. Lassie's eyebrows invert as she looks back at him. Suddenly, the two laugh.

As the short lived laughter ceases, Lassie's eyes look to the walls as their shadows dance and stretch across the space. She takes a deep breath and lets out a long sigh. She was content; she nearly _felt_ safe.

Matt lets out a stifled chuckles and Lassie's eyes shoot to him. After a moment, Matt nods his head and attempts to let her in on what his chuckling was about. "Back home, I had this friend—Miles his name was… the neighbours used to call us the M&amp;Ms… anyway, we used to do all kinds of stupid things together." He pauses for a second and shakes his head. "He would have loved this place," he says quietly.

Lassie watches him for a moment. The boy had never spoken a word about _before_ unless it was of or relating to his mother or uncle.

"Miles and I were having a sleepover one time," he continues. "It was in his grandma's pool house." Matt's eyes dart to Lassie. "It was a pretty creepy place at night—cobwebs and shit everywhere. The old lady didn't have much of a use for the place and kind of just let it go to waste. We thought it was haunted so, obviously, we stayed the night," he adds with a laugh. "Every noise we heard our eyes would shoot open and our hearts would be pounding. If he heard a noise and I was asleep, he'd wake me… and I did the same." He shakes his head. "We had to be up for seven in the morning… we fell asleep when the sun started to rise." Lassie grins. "Miles liked creepy places… w-we both did." Matt's smirk slowly fades as his mind wanders back into the present.

Lassie takes a quick breath as his demeanour changes. It was supposed to be a happy memory—not something that made his soul darken. "When I was about eleven or twelve, I heard my brother Daryl talkin' about some graveyard just outside of town. He said somethin' about how ghosts would come out on the night before Halloween." Lassie lets out a sigh as she watches the fire's flames. "After a day or two, I asked if I could go with him. He said no.

"I didn't know it was just gonna be him and his stupid buddies drinkin' and fightin' all night; I just wanted to see a ghost." Lassie reclines herself back and takes a deep breath. "After I begged him for three days, he finally agreed to take me with him. When the night came, we pulled up into the cemetery and he and his buddies started unloadin' their coolers and lawn chairs." She smirks as Matt furrows his brow. "I guess it's a country thing… beer and lawn chairs kind of go hand in hand when it comes to a night of drinkin'," she says as a bitter taste sits on her tongue.

"Anyway, I was getting madder and madder as the night went on. All Daryl was doin' was talking to his buddies and wrestlin'. He never even tried to look for a ghost with me—not even once," she says. "When it was time to leave, Daryl asked me to go grab his cooler." Lassie licks her lips as a grin pulls at them. Her eyes shoot to Matt as animation lights her face. "It was by this huge gravestone in the blackest part of the cemetery. I was so scared… I realized at that moment I didn't actually wanna see a ghost… I just liked the idea."

"Did you see anything?" Matt asks as Lassie's eyes lower.

She gives a grin. "When I reached for the cooler, something grabbed my hand. I screamed and suddenly I was on the ground clawing at whatever was on top of me." Matt's eyes widen and Lassie lets out a laugh. "Daryl and his buddies came stumblin' to where I was and a flashlight shot down at me. The face I saw wasn't a ghost—," she rolls her eyes, "—it was my other brother Merle." Matt hums a chuckle. "Him and Daryl had planned the whole thing."

"Holy," Matt says with a smirk.

Lassie shakes her head with a smile. "I almost pissed myself I was so scared… they were pretty proud of themselves that night." She feels the smile dissipate after a moment. She had never shared that story with anyone—she never had anyone to share it with before this moment.

"That's awesome," Matt says with a faint nod. "Your brothers sound like cool guys."

A sinking fills her belly as she watches the fire. "Yeah," she says as her own soul dampens. "They are."

Matt takes in a deep breath and lets out a hum as he lowers his back onto the floor. "So…" Lassie furrows her brow at the tone he uses. Something about it made it seem like the words following weren't going to be as light as she preferred things to be. "Where do you think your family is?" Matt asks.

"Somewhere safe," she says after a moment. Lassie shakes her head. "I'm not stupid," she adds. "I know some of them probably didn't make it." Matt watches her for a moment before bringing his hands under the back of his head for cushion. "I know my dad's probably dead…"

Matt's brow furrows deeply. "Why do you say that? Wasn't he the one who taught you all this… survival crap?"

Lassie nods before chewing her lip. "He was an alcoholic…"

"Oh… heavy…"

"Yeah," Lassie says before flashing a grin. "I mean," she adds with a sigh, "Merle and Daryl weren't really much better. Merle was always in and out of jail because of drugs and Daryl was always in the wrong place at the wrong time." Lassie takes a breath. "My mom was kinda the only _normal_ one of the bunch—but even she had her issues."

Matt's head bounces in a nod as silence envelopes them. "What was her problem?" he finally asks.

"She was addicted to my daddy," Lassie says. She lowers her chin and watches the fire for a moment. "He wasn't a very good man," she nearly whispers. "My mom couldn't see that…"

Matt nods his head shallowly and presses his lips together. It was his turn to apologize now. "I'm sorry, Lassie," he says.

"Ain't nothing to be sorry for." The girl brushes a hand through her cropped hair. "Just the luck of the draw, you know? You can't choose your family just like you can't choose what colour the sky is or how hot the day's gonna be." Matt nods again, his mouth pinched in discomfort of not knowing what to say next. Suddenly, Lassie twists her head in his direction and waves a finger. "And don't go feeling sorry for me, Matt. Ain't nothing to be sorry for," she repeats.

Matt rolls his eyes. "Me feeling sorry for you?" he asks with a chief grin on his lips. "You're telling a gimp to not feel sorry for _you_?" He lets out a laugh as Lassie smirks. "Luck of the draw… yeah…" Matt takes in a long breath. "We're both kind of wounded… the wounded don't know sympathy. We know empathy."

Lassie's hands wrap around her ankles where she can feel the scars left from her father mindlessly. "We're not wounded," she says softly. "We're survivors…"

"Well, this survivor's going to bed," Matt says with a tired breath.

"Goodnight," Lassie says with her eyes back on the fire.

"Goodnight," Matt says before crawling to his nest of couch cushions and blankets.

* * *

Lassie walks down the old road; her black and white sneakers kick up the gravel with each step. Had it not been for the adrenaline pumping through her veins, she probably would have stopped by now—maybe even thought about what she was doing and decide she should just go back home… that's what she did every other time. But today was different. Today she had reached her threshold. Every ten feet or so, she looks over her sun kissed shoulder in case _he_ might be following. Really, there were three people she was watching for, but the main man—her father—was one she did not want to see; not for a very long time, at least.

She winces as her back stings with the sweat beading on it. He used an extension chord this time. Five good whips and Lassie was in tears screaming, "Daddy, stop!" When he realized his glass was empty, he left to pour another potent cup of hooch only to come back to an empty room.

Lassie quickly veers off the road as she hears a truck coming up from the way she came. She crouches in the ditch and watches. The truck is a faded rusted red; definitely not someone's she recognizes.

As the truck approaches, she straightens and sticks her thumb out. She had seen it done in the movies so often—the results had to be true. The driver was almost obligated to stop and give her a ride. A smirk pulls at her lips as the truck slows down and veers to the shoulder. Lassie takes a deep breath and watches the vehicle for a moment. She had never hitchhiked before; caution would be the best approach.

She timidly steps towards the truck's driver side as the man rolls down his window. Lassie pushes her shoulder length hair back and gently leans on the low truck's door and looks back down the highway for a moment.

"Gas, ass, or grass—," her dark eyes look to the driver and, suddenly, the man straightens in his seat. "Holy shit, I know you," he says with a smirk. "You're the Dixon girl," he says and she gives him a quick and meaningless smile. She could always pull off a smile; even when she didn't feel like smiling. "What're you doin' so far from home, kid?" he asks. "Shouldn't you be with mamma or dad?"

Lassie sweeps her bangs from her eyes and shakes her head. "Mamma's out right now and daddy's busy with the home brewery," she lies with that sweet smile.

She didn't know the man, but that didn't mean her father didn't. "Just out for a walk," she says as her hands leave the truck's window and she stands straight. "Thought I'd hitch a ride to town," she adds. Lassie gives a small frown. "Ain't nobody comin' down this way for a long while." Her eyes go back to the man as if in hopes he will give her a ride away rather than back.

"How long you been walkin', girl?" the driver asks as he readjusts his baseball cap.

She shrugs. "'Bout an hour… maybe two," she says.

The man furrows his brow for a quick second and then shrugs. "Why don't you hop in?" he asks. "I can take you to town," he adds. "Your brothers should be at my place in a few hours—that gives you plenty of time to spend with your friends before you gotta go back home—,"

"I ain't _gonin_' back home," she says with an eyebrow arched. The man didn't know her father; he was a friend—no, a client—of her brothers'.

The man shrugs. "That ain't none of my business… but I doubt your brothers'll let you stay out for too long." He smirks as he turns his head back to her. "They know what kind of things can happen to a pretty little girl. Do you?"

Lassie shrugs, her eyes looking back down the road. "It's a good thing I ain't pretty," she says through the side of her mouth and the man lets out a chuckle before shaking his head. She stands in silence for a minute as the man eyes her up; slowly looking up her awkward legs and curving hip; they settle on her blossoming chest and then up to her shoulders and neck until they settle back on her face.

"Come on," he says with a nod. "I'll drive you wherever you want. A girl like you shouldn't be out here alone," he adds. Lassie watches him for a moment; her head was telling her something wasn't right, but her gut told her she needed to get as far away as she could. "I don't bite," the man says with another chuckle.

Lassie's eyes shoot back down the road and then to the man. He was her getaway. Slowly, she walks around the truck and enters the passenger side. As she brings the seatbelt across her, the man takes the belt with a smirk. "It's touchy," he says as he fiddles with the buckle before locking the belt in place. Lassie smiles nervously and gives a nod before looking out the window. Something about him made her stomach churn, however the threat of the whooping she'd get if she went back home made her stay in the truck.

The drive only takes fifteen minutes; fifteen minutes of the man's side glances and awkward smirks; fifteen minutes of Lassie asking herself what if's.

As they pull into a driveway, Lassie reaches for the buckle but the man quickly reaches over her. With a gasp, she looks at him and he smirks as he undoes her seatbelt for her. She knew fear—but this kind was different. It was a calm fear—the kind that makes one's heart flutter and muscles tense at the drop of a hat.

Lassie watches as the man then gets out of the truck. After a quick second of calming her nerves, she gets out.

"Just head a few blocks that way—," the man points his finger, "—and you should be right by the library," he says.

"I ain't here to read books," Lassie spits. She relaxes her furrowed brow and shifts her feet awkwardly. "Thank you for the ride, sir," she says remembering the manners her mother taught her.

"Was good company—especially when the company is such well mannered," he says with a nod of his head. "Nice to be able to put a face to the name I hear so much of," he adds. The man turns away, takes a step towards his house and then stops. "Y' know," he says as he turns back to see Lassie watching him. "I've got an extra mattress in the house."

The girl looks to him with a furrowed brow as her fair hair falls into her eyes. "If you need a place to stay, it's better than sleepin' on the streets."

Lassie stands idly for a moment as she thinks. None of the kids from her school would offer such a thing—they didn't like _rednecks_ hanging around. "Okay," she says with an uncertain nod.

The man smiles and gestures his hand for her to follow as he climbs up the stoop and reaches into his pockets for a key. Slowly, Lassie follows; when the door opens, he pushes and holds it for her to enter.

Lassie's nose curls up at the stench she is immediately greeted with upon entrance. Something was rotting in the house—whether it was in the kitchen or living room, she was unsure. There was also the distinct smell of something Lassie couldn't quite put her finger on… something like plastic burning—toxic and cruel to the nose.

"It ain't the prettiest place, but it's home," the man says as he closes the door. "Livin' room's right there," he says as he points his figure to a door arch that leads to a cluttered room. "Kitchen's just down the hall here—and the bathroom is right before it. You can't miss it," he says. He removes his cap and rubs his head making the curls spring out. "The extra mattress is hangin' back on the wall in there," he says as he points to the living room. "I got a pillow and blanket you can have, if you want." Lassie nods. It didn't feel right here—it made her stomach knot and vision vibrate worse than it did when her father was drunk.

"Go have a seat," the man says. "I'll get you a beer," he says with a smile.

Lassie swallows back a scream that's been building since the drive and slowly enters the cluttered living room. Her hand rubs one of the cushions on the couch and she lowers to the spot.

There were pizza boxes everywhere—cockroaches stumbling around with full bellies. Lassie rises from the couch as a mouse races beneath the coffee table. She takes a deep breath and sits back down again.

"Here you go," he says as he passes the opened beer to her.

Lassie looks at the bottle for a moment before sniffing it. She had never had beer before—never touched alcohol of any kind except for that one time Merle offered her a sip of hooch. Not only did it taste bad, but Merle got angry she even took the offer. He told her booze was for losers and that she couldn't have any if she wanted to get anywhere in life.

Lassie takes a sip of the beer and makes a face. It wasn't _that_ bad.

"First time drinkin'?" the man asks with a chuckle as he sits with his knee to his chest on a cushioned chair. She nods her head as she looks to the dark box television.

"Silly lil' thing, ain't it?" he asks as he looks to the T.V. "Nowadays, they come in paper thin and are as big as half the wall," he adds with a laugh. "You got one of 'em?"

Lassie shakes her head. "Ours still has bunny ears," she says after lowering her eyes to the beer bottle in her hands. "Why are my brothers comin' here?" she asks before taking another sip.

The man shrugs. "They wanted to hang out," he says but Lassie knows it's a lie.

After a few moment of silence, Lassie furrows her brow; her head spins as her vision seems to fog up like she is wearing glasses. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

"You okay there, Lassie?" she hears the strange man ask. A hand rests on her shoulder and she shakes her head.

"I wanna go home," she moans as her chin drops to her chest.

"Now, now," the man says as his weight pulls down the cushion beside her, "you ain't goin' home yet. You just got here—," four quick knocks on the door sound and the man turns quickly, his hand leaving her shoulder.

He cautiously pulls back the windows curtain and turns back cringing. "Shit," he spits. He stands for a moment as still as a statue and then startles as the door is knocked again.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

**A nice long chapter for those of you who waited this ungodly amount of time.**

**My apologies. **

* * *

**Chapter Five**

"We know you're in there, Quincy," a gruff voice calls out. "Open the door 'n' face us like the man you s'posed to be."

Quincy's neck strains as he bites his fist. How was he supposed to hide her? He quickly shakes his head as Lassie lowers herself the rest of the way on the couch. The man takes a quick hurried breath and hangs a stained sheet over the entrance to the living room. Quincy takes a deep rubs his face and shakes his bouncing curls before slowly opens the door to his home.

"Hey, boys—,"

"Where's my money, Quincy?" the first man asks as he pins Quincy to the wall. Quincy winces and attempts a shrug. "Where's my money, man?" he growls as he jerks Quincy on the wall. "Huh?"

"I-I'll have it tomorrow—I swear—,"

"You hear this asshole, lil' brother?" the man asks as turns to the second man.

"Sure do," he says as he lights a cigarette

"Daryl, please—my landlord told me not to smoke in here anymore—,"

"I'm pretty sure he was talking about the crack," Daryl says before waving as his nose. "Smell this place from a mile away."

"You got money for you landlord but not your old pal, Merle?" the first man asks with his eyes hooded. He hits the wall next to Quincy head. "You think this a fuckin' game, Quincy? Huh?" He grabs the man by the collar of his shirt. "Do y'ah?" Merle shakes his head. "Because I don't see us smilin'," he adds and Daryl shakes his head slowly with his brow raised.

"Please, I swear to god I will have the money tomorrow—my dad owes me money; the check should be here tomorrow—,"

"You know, Quincy," Merle says as he twists his head to the side quickly, "you shouldn't swear things to the Good Lord unless you mean them."

"B-but I do—,"

Merle shakes his head and covers Quincy's mouth. "Now," he nearly whispers, "you either give me _my money today_, or I take the loss out on your legs—which do'yuh prefer, Qunicy?" Merle asks with another quick movement of his head. Quincy shakes his head rapidly. He had heard stories about the Dixon Boys—he knew it was a bad idea to dick them around… but he needed what they had; drugs. "I'm givin' you the option, man," Merle says with a wheezy chuckle at the end. "Do you want me to pick for you—,"

"N-n-no," Quincy manages out. Daryl watches carefully. He never liked the violent part of the job—but at least it was money in this dank dry town.

"You're lucky my baby brother's here," Merle growls. "I would beat your face in 'til it was pulp, man." He releases Quincy and the scrawny man stumbles to his feet. "You either get the money by tonight or you're a dead man—understand?" Merle furrows his brow and rushes to the man's face. "I said **do you understand**?" he hollers with spit flying onto Quincy's cheek.

"Y-yes," he says with his eyes shut tightly and body flinching for a hit.

Daryl grins as Quincy slowly relaxes. He watches as Merle nods his head to the door and begins to head out. As Merle steps out, Daryl's eyes catch the hanging sheet.

"Why you got a curtain up?" Daryl asks with a furrowed brow.

Quincy's eyes dart from Daryl to the sheet and then back again. "Darkness keeps cool air in," he says quickly.

"Oh," Daryl says with a nod.

Merle stands on the landing outside and taps Daryl's shoulder for him to get a move on. Daryl slowly turns away and steps towards the door; something about Quincy's answer didn't sit right.

"Merle," a small voice calls out. "Daryl—," Daryl cocks his head and turns back to see Quincy nervously watching him.

"Got friends over or somethin'?" he asks and Quincy's face stretches with a shrug. "Do we know 'em?"

"Daryl," the voice calls out louder.

"Bro, I think he's got Lassie in there," Daryl taps Merle's shoulder with excitement.

"The hell you got her in here for?" Merle growls as he rushes back into the house and slams Quincy to the wall again; this time solid and harder. Daryl takes no time and rips the sheet down. Lassie half sits half lies on the couch. Her eyes are slitted and the sight of her like this makes Daryl's throat feel swollen.

Daryl races into the living room and grabs the girl. "What the hell you give her?" he growls as Lassie's legs wobble and give out below her. Daryl stumbles with the weight and holds the girl steady.

"You drugged my baby sister?" Merle asks as he turns his face to Quincy. The man stares back at him; Quincy's eyes are as wide as saucers as he tries to think up a lie. Instead of saying anything, he keels over and lets out a groan as Merle hits him straight in the gut. "What did you give her, you lil' perv?"

Daryl struggles to keep the girl up in his arms. "She's only fifteen—,"

"That sounds like a federal offense knockin' on your door, Quincy," Merle growls before grunting with another hit to the man's stomach. "First you deny me and my brother our money—now I find out you got my baby sister fucked out of her skull—," Merle punches again and Quincy groan as saliva drips from his lips.

"Merle, we gotta go," Daryl says as he lifts Lassie like a bride in his arms. "I think she's passin' out—,"

"You better pray she's okay," Merle hollers as he drives his elbow into Quincy's back. "If I found out you did anything—_anything_—to her, you're dead!"

* * *

"She's not wakin' up," Daryl rushes out with his voice cracking as Lassie lays slouched in the middle seat of the truck with her head over his lap. He shakes her with nervous hands and she continues to lie motionless.

"Stick your fingers down her throat," Merle growls as his eyes lift from the road to Daryl and back. He was scared—but he didn't show it, not like his brother. Merle wasn't allowed to; he was the _big_ brother; the oldest and wisest of the Dixon Clan; he had a reputation to hold. In the corner of his eyes, he watches as Daryl fumbles to open their sister's mouth and sticks a finger down her throat.

He quickly pulls it out when he feels her throat's muscles constrict at the sensation.

"Just shove it in there," Merle growls as his grip on the wheel tightens.

Daryl tries again and psyches out when she struggles to breath. "She's can't breath when I do it—,"

The truck stops abruptly in the middle of the street and Merle glares at Daryl. "She ain't supposed to breath. You tryinna choke her—make her throw up whatever that needle dick gave her." Merle lets out a growl of frustration and opens his door before he pulls Lassie over his lap. He sticks two fingers down her throat and feels her struggling with them. His brow furrows as he feels her stomach contents rising; he takes his fingers out and looks ahead with a scowl as his sister pukes on the pavement just outside his door.

There were few things Merle Dixon could not take and drug vomit was one of them. The way it stank and stuck in the nose—it was enough to make even a dealer like him feel sick. He licks his front teeth and takes a deep breath through his mouth; it was so potent he could almost taste it.

He lifts Lassie's chin and sighs as she still lies limp with no signs of life other than her slow breathing. "If this don't work we gotta take her to the hospital," he says to Daryl as he sticks his fingers down her throat again. Lassie coughs and vomit spews from her mouth as Merle takes his fingers out too late. She lies on him for a moment, her hands tightening on his jeans as she bobs up and down with coughs.

"Atta girl," he says as he rubs her back and takes a long over due breath. "Let it out," he says quietly as she pukes again. "Let it all out," he nearly whispers as she struggles with her coughs.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Matt asks as he stands before Lassie in the living room. She is surrounded by chunks of foam in varying sizes as she rips open another of the couch cushions.

"It's insulation," she says before grunting as her hands rip at the course fabric. "Padding too," she adds before looking up at him. Lassie picks up a wad of foam and points to Matt's fake leg. "Stuff it in there 'n' it can fill in the gaps that are too small to fill in other wise." She shrugs slightly. "Might even feel more comfortable when you run."

Matt's brows knit as he looks down at her a moment longer. "Why do we need insulation?"

"Winter," she says before tearing at the newly exposed foam. "We can wear double layers and in between put this stuff in. It'll keep us warmer," Lassie says before wiping at the build up of sweat on her brow. "If we find a needle 'n' some thread, I could even stuff jackets with it when we have some."

"You're thinking way too far ahead," Matt says as he lowers himself to the couch as a spring sits just below his rump.

"Better to be prepared for that than freeze and wish we had something." Lassie rips viciously at the foam and suddenly straightens as Matt takes the remains away from her.

"I think you need a break," he says as her eye rise to him and gives a few blinks.

Lassie rubs the back of her neck and closes her eyes. They had been in the cabin for nearly two weeks. It was the safest place they had been in a while; to leave meant uncertainty where staying put meant the possibility of a tomorrow.

"We're not gonna be here forever," she says after a moment. Matt's brow rises and then he gives her a slow nod. "Eventually, we're gonna leave and where we end up might not be warm." Lassie takes a deep breath. "I just wanna be prepared, is all."

Matt nods and takes a slow breath. "I know," he says. "We both do… but you're just being way too proactive, Lassie." The girl's brows knit for a moment as she looks to her surroundings. Foam and floral canvas tossed carelessly around her makeshift station. She palms her forehead for a moment.

"There's an old tire swing out back," Matt says breaking her from her thoughts.

"I know," she says quietly.

Matt nods again as he leans forward resting his elbows on his knees. "Thought it might be a little fun to swing on it… but then I realized it would be better if someone was there to push me—,"

"You want me to push you?" Lassie asks with a smirk of disbelief.

Matt shrugs. "Might as well… nothing much better to do out here," he says before straightening with a sigh. "We have enough food to last four more days… there's no need to look for water with the rain barrel outside." He shrugs again. "Just thought we could have a little fun for a change," Matt says with a voice sounding nearly wounded.

Lassie watches him for a moment. He was still a kid—they both were, but he wasn't prepared to push down his childish wants like Lassie was. "Okay," she says before rising from the floor with a grunt.

Matt's eyes rise to her as he smirks. He pushes himself off the bare couch and lets out a chuckle as the girl opens the door and holds it for him to exit. Just as he passes by, Lassie extends her arm out and presses her hand on his chest.

"But I get to swing first."

* * *

**Sorry for the shorter chapter... and the long wait...**

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Lassie closes her eyes as Matt pushes her on the tire swing; something about it just made her body tenderize like a long-marinated steak. She readjusts her arms and rests her chin on her fingers wrapped around the old tire. Matt smirks at the sight as she swings further and then closer to him like the yoyo he once whirled around his head as the young hellion he once was.

The hands that touch her back for the next push are what keep her from drifting away from the present. If she thought about something for too long—lived in a moment past its prime—allowed herself a moment to relax, it could be the difference between life and death for both her _and_ Matt. It was another of her rules; never dwell.

Lassie opens her eyes and releases a sigh.

"What's up?" Matt asks as he pushes her out.

Lassie presses her lips together before another sigh. "Sometimes…" She shakes her head. "It's stupid," she admits. "But, sometimes, I wonder if it's really worth it."

Matt's hands fall and miss the steady rhythm of the push. "What do you mean?" He lets out a nervous chuckle. "Are-are you having second thoughts about living?"

Lassie scoffs. "'Course not." She furrows her brow as the sun sits on the tree tops ready to fall below the horizon in a short hour. "Like… this runnin' around and takin' what we need no matter the cost," she says. Matt continues to push. "I mean, maybe there's a place where you don't have to do that… maybe there's still people out there livin' life like this whole thing was just a li'l hiccup on their Monday mornin'—,"

"It was a Wednesday for me," Matt says with a smirk.

"Shut up," Lassie spits before a grin pulls at her lips. "You know what I mean." She can hear Matt laugh behind her and she shrugs. "It was Tuesday for me."

"Ah, the day after Monday," Matt adds as he raises his chin for a second. "Must have sucked. Wednesday was a good time for this all to happen; middle of the week—the weekend's already over school tests are usually on Thursdays—,"

"It was spaghetti night at the centre," Lassie says through the side of her mouth.

"Centre?" Matt lets the girl swing by without a push. "Like a youth centre?"

Lassie nods her head. "Somethin' like that."

Matt furrows his brow and continues to give the tire momentum to keep swinging. "Was it like a church thing?" he asks as curiosity pecks at him.

"Do I look like the type of person to go to church?" Lassie snaps before turning her head and giving a playful grin. Matt's eyes watch the back of her head as she turns forward. "It was a homeless shelter." The boy's eyes widen. "Stayed there whenever there was an open bed," she adds. For a moment, her eyes fix on the sun until the orange blob burns into her vision.

"How'd you end up there?" Matt asks; his voice soft—almost timid with the opening up of his companion.

"Don't matter… ain't like I was always there… just… temporary." Lassie brings her feet down onto the dirt below and stops the tire mid-swing. "Your turn," she says before snaking her body out of the old black rubber.

Matt presses his lips together and slowly makes his way into the tire's hole. "You know…" He rests his back side as comfortably as he can before lifting his feet from the ground. "I know you and you know me… but we don't _know_ each other—,"

"Sure we do," Lassie says as she pushes his back. "I know you had a mom and an uncle… I know you had a best friend… I know you came from some suburb—,"

"And what makes you say that?"

"Your friend's grandma had pool house." Lassie shakes her head. "I don't know 'bout you, but most of the people I've seen livin' out in the country or in a city's heart don't have those—not unless they've got more money than they ought to have."

Matt sighs as his arms hang over the tire and his shoulders drop. "I'm not some prep if that's what you're thinking," he says.

Lassie smirks. "I never said that… I just know that if it weren't for this whole… _thing_, you'd probably never talk to me—,"

"That's not true—,"

"You better believe it," she says with a chuckle. "The only person you're tryin' to fool is yourself, Matt." There silence for a moment aside from the rope's creaking on the branch above. "You were probably some star athlete in school—yeah?"

Matt purses his lips slightly trying to hide his grin.

"Had all the girls swoonin' to you like flies on hot shi—,"

"Not _all_," Matt says with his brow rising and head tilting.

Lassie shakes her head. "Aren't you a little young to be thinkin' about the one that got away?"

Matt lets out a weak chuckle and shakes his head. "They all got away…"

Lassie takes in a quick breath with the mood suddenly darkening. "You don't know that," she nearly whispers. She hated lying—even if it was to make someone feel better.

"Not much use in knowing… the ones alive are probably going to be dead… and the ones dead are probably better off." Matt takes in a deep breath.

"It is worth it, though," he says. Lassie furrows her brow as Matt brings his foot and prosthetic down to the dirt. He twists the tire towards the girl so he faces her. "The running around thing; it's worth it." Matt's dark eyes watch her for a moment. "We're doing it because we need to. We need to because at some point we're going to find those brothers of yours… whether it's in some small community untouched by this crap or on their own just like us—surviving." Matt gives a half grin and shakes his head slightly. "What happens when we find them? I don't know… but we're going to find them."

Matt looks up at the clouds as the sky glows with the dulling blues and oranges of sunset. "Running around… taking things for ourselves… it's not the greatest. If I was with someone else… I doubt I'd keep going—but you bring out the fighter in people, Lassie—or you do for me."

Lassie watches as his chin lowers back to neutral and his eyes hit hers. Quickly, they fall to the ground and Lassie can feel the awkwardness radiating off of Matt's reddening ears. Lassie scratches the back of her neck and readjusts her feet.

She furrows her brow as the boy bounces his leg softly on the worn in dirt. "I like you, Matt," she says softly. He keeps his dark eyes on the ground; any sudden movement could send Lassie running and slamming the doors she's had locked since their meeting. "But my brothers wouldn't…"

"Why not?" he asks with his brow knitted and lips slightly parted.

She wanted to tell him the truth, but the truth was hurtful and made the character of her brothers seem obnoxious and harsh. "They… they just wouldn't."

"Is it because of my leg—,"

"No," Lassie says with a scoff.

"Then why?"

"I don't know… forget I said anythin'," Lassie says.

Matt takes a moment before bringing his eyes up to meet hers. "Is it because I'm not white?"

Lassie can feel her chest constrict. She couldn't lie—not with him looking back at her. Matt was hurt; no matter how ugly the truth was, she had to tell him. Lassie gives a shallow nod. "I mean, you don't look full Asian… but they'll know."

"Vietnamese," Matt says as his eyes fall to the ground again. He lets out an almost annoyed sigh as Lassie continues to stand before him. "Do you think the same way?" he asks but receives no answer. "Are you like them?"

"No," Lassie says quickly; the words making her shoulders tense. "They grew up in a different time, Matt. Everythin's pretty black and white to them."

"Are these guys people _I_ should be looking for?" Matt presses his lips together.

Lassie gives him a nod. "They won't hurt you, if that's what you think. They just… don't have much tolerance." She furrows her brow. "And I'm with you. They'll do anything for me; even if it means puttin' aside their differences."

* * *

"You know where the towels are," Merle says as he moves aside for his sister to enter the small bathroom. His eyes hood over as he looks to the floor. The man takes a breath and holds it for a second before letting it go. Merle shakes his head. "When you're done, we'll be in the kitchen," he says with his eyes still hanging low.

Lassie nods and Merle shuts the door between them. It takes her a little longer to start up the shower; her hands still shake and her body feels like rubber. She was still unsure how it all happened, the last thing she remembered was entering Quincy's house followed by waking up in Daryl's truck with Merle driving like a bat out of hell.

As the water hits her face, she closes her eyes at the sensation. The warmth of the water seemed to solidify her rubber limps—though her shakiness and weakness would only go away after a proper night's rest.

She hears the bathroom door open.

"I'm in here," she barks.

"I know, I just got some clothes for you—unless you want to smell like puke for the rest of the night—," it was Daryl. Without further word, she can hear her brother leave and shut the door behind him.

Merle and Daryl's trailer was like a second home to her. If they knew there was an argument happening or they felt something off at their father's house, they never thought twice to take Lassie for the night. She was as much their child as she was their sister and it didn't help that they were old enough to be her father either.

As Lassie gets out of the shower and dresses into the oversized t-shirt and boxer shorts, she catches a glimpse of what made Merle not want to look at her. Her face was so pale it made the moon look colourful and the dark circles below her eyes only seemed to highlight it. She looked like one of Merle's customers. She looked like she belonged in some abandoned warehouse scratching at her arms and begging for her next fix. Merle didn't want to see that. Lassie lowers her eyes and exits the bathroom; neither did she.

"Hey there, li'l lady," Merle says as the girl comes into view from the hallway. He sits on a torn and patched dining room table that matched nothing else in the room. Lassie nods and continues until she reaches one of the other three mismatched chairs. "We got some things to talk about," he says as he leans towards the table and watches his sister for a moment.

"I know—,"

"She knows," Merle says with his eyebrows raised and eyes shooting to Daryl. "Hot damn, she knows," he repeats with a smirk. "What else do you know, Lassie?" The girl remains silent. Merle furrows his brow. "Do you know not to mess around with our clients?" he asks.

Lassie looks to Daryl as if for help, but he offers nothing of the sort. The girl swallows and gives a shallow nod.

"Then why the hell were you at one of their houses?" Merle asks as he pushes his back into the chair. He gives a shrug. "If you know not to mess around with them—why were you there?"

"I wasn't there for drugs if that's what you're thinkin'—,"

"You don't want to know what I've been thinkin', li'l lady."

"That you're sister's some kind of junkie?" Lassie asks with her head bobbing to the words.

Merle's nostrils flare for a second as he watches her. He shakes his head slowly. "In the last hour I've been thinkin' lots of things." Merle's jaw moves side to side as if he were grinding his teeth. "That my li'l sister don't know how to listen… that she should stop pretendin' she's some tough as nails bullshit priss." He shakes his head. "'Course, those were after thoughts to is she gonna die? Am I gonna have to burry my sister before our own liver failin' father?" Merle's upper lip curls. "I'm sure Daryl's minds been in the same loop as mine too," he adds. "Drivin' around tryin' to figure out if we should take you to the hospital or not… waitin' for your skinny ass to wake up." Merle runs a hand through his buzzed hair. "You think it's cool to run away from home?"

Lassie remains silent.

"Think it's fun to have Kathy worry about where her daughter is?"

The girl readjusts herself on the chair. "Bet daddy didn't—,"

"I don't give a shit about that man. You respect your mother, Lassie," he barks back. "You're lucky she's still around to care," he adds.

Lassie furrows her brow and glares down at the table.

Merle presses his lips together. The angrier his sister got the more she resembled him; no matter how pretty he said he was, he didn't want his sister to have any likeness to his ugly mug. "You go back home tonight—,"

"But Merle—,"

"I said tonight—,"

"Man, we got her here; she's safe. Why not just keep her 'til morning." Merle's eyes rise to Daryl. The younger brother gives a passive shrug. "Ain't no point in wastin' the gas. Tomorrow we'll just drive her to school and get on with our day." Lassie looks to Daryl and as his eyes hit hers, he gives a very quick and well timed wink at her.

Merle was the protector; he was the lecturer and the one to dish out the discipline. Daryl, on the other hand, was her saviour. He was there when Merle was unjust; he was the one to talk sense into their older brother when even Merle didn't understand Merle.

Daryl shrugs again as their brother stares back at him. "I'm serious, bro. I've got a quarter tank left in the truck; unless you're paying for the gas, Lass ain't goin' home tonight."

"Fine," Merle lets out through gritted teeth. He begins rising from his chair. "But she ain't watching no TV," he adds with a finger pointed.

"There's only three channels, Merel. Ain't like I'm missin' much—,"

"Nuh-uh, shh," Daryl rushes out as he taps Lassie's knee. Merle arches a brow her way and Daryl closes his eyes and shakes his head.

"You sure there's only a quarter tank in there, Daryl? Last I saw it was half full." Lassie lowers her eyes as Merle glares down at her. It was a warning and it didn't go unheard.

"Pretty sure," Daryl says quickly before pressing his lips together.

"I think Lassie's lookin' a li'l tired. Probably best if she went to bed," he says though they know it's not a simple suggestion. As the man leaves the room, Lassie sighs and shakes her head.

"You heard the man," Daryl says as he rises, "time for you to turn in." He takes a deep breath and looks down at his little sister. "You can have my bed tonight; I doubt Merle'll give you his."

"He's pretty pissed," Lassie says after a moment.

They begin down the hallway, Daryl leading the way. "Do you blame him?" He opens the bedroom door and takes one of the two pillows for himself on the couch.

Lassie shakes her head. "I get it… but you _know_ I wouldn't be there for _that_—,"

"So does he," Daryl says as he hugs the pillow in his arms. "But he doesn't want you to know that."

"Why not?"

"Because he's Merle," he says with a shrug. "Why else?"

"How come you're not mad?"

"I am," Daryl says with a ginger nod. "But not at you," he adds.

Lassie sits on the bed's edge and furrows her brow. "Who are you mad at then? It was my fault—,"

"You trust people too easy, Lass. That's not gonna go away without some experience. I'm mad at Quincy… I'm mad at dad… and I'm mad at Merle, but not you. You can't be mad at stupid," he says with a grin making Lassie scoff and roll her eyes.

"Why Merle?" she asks after a moment.

Daryl gives a half grin. "He wants you to be this perfect kid… we both know you're not perfect—nobody is. He thinks you know what he knows, but he's kept you pretty sheltered—,"

"_Sheltered_?"

"Yeah," Daryl says with a deep nod. "Merle watches you like a hawk. He wants what's best for you… even if it means it might hurt you in the long run." Daryl sighs. "Today… it just showed him how much he's kept from you. We didn't tell you 'bout Quincy—you probably didn't even know he owed Merle money. You just listened to the nice person offerin' you a ride to town."

Lassie looks to the grey-blue carpet. "He told me he knew you guys. He even said you'd be popping over."

Daryl raises his brow. "Then why'd you stay?"

"Nothin' bad ever happens when you guys are around. I knew I'd be safe."

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Lassie lets out a growl of frustration as she trips her own deadfall for the second time in a row. Her brothers were always better at that sort of thing than her. She could make one no problem, the trick was to set it and keep it that way as one removed their hands. Lassie hisses as the rock falls and pinches her finger. Quickly, she sucks on the new blood blister and shakes her head.

There were already three set up around the cabin, but this deadfall might have more of a chance of catching something; it was close to a little stream and the plant life was dead near thriving. She attempts to set it once more. As she places the sticks and sets the bait, she grins as her hands come free without a collapse.

Lassie turns around abruptly as she hears something in the brush. "Don't even think about it," she whispers as a walker comes into view. She takes out a bread knife from her belt and holds it ready as the reanimated comes closer; its hands reaching out and milky eyes hungrily staring. Just as it swipes at her, Lassie brings the blade under its chin and uses its weight in the fall to remove her kitchen blade.

"No—," she attempts to pull the dead arm away, but it's too late; the walker has knocked her newly built deadfall down. "Goddamn it; you filthy, motherless, piece of—,"

"Ever thought of placing it on a more leveled surface?"

Lassie swiftly turns to the root of the voice and grips her knife's handle tightly. Where some people may have coward at the six foot something man or maybe even ran away, Lassie raises her chin as if to challenge him. "The trail's here," she says calmly as her empty hand waves to the rabbit trail but her eyes remain on the man.

He gives a charming smile. "I see that now," he says with a nod. "I'd ask why you're out here, but it's pretty clear you're tryin' to set up traps," he adds with the soft thunder that is his voice.

Lassie narrows her eyes. "Why are _you_ out here?" she asks cautiously. Very rarely had she encountered people on their own—but when she did, they rarely were just looking for simple conversation.

"I thought I saw something movin' in the trees. Figured if it was a biter I'd put it down before it could do any harm—,"

"There was one," she says. "I got it," she adds as the man looks down at the corpse behind her.

"I see that," he says.

"Ain't no reason for you to be here. You can move along now, sir."

"Manners," he says with a bit of a chuckle. "I like that," he adds before shaking his head. "What's your name?" he asks as his sky blue eyes look down at her small frame.

"Lassie," she says after a moment.

"You got people, Lassie?"

The girl takes a breath and pauses for a second. "What would it matter?"

The man gives another of his charming smiles. "Just thought I'd offer some Southern hospitality to them too," he says as his eyes fall to the ground. "You have a place around here—a safe place?"

"No such thing anymore," Lassie says with a scoff and she lowers her hand from the knife's grip.

"What if I told you there was?"

"I'd say you found some really good rocks to smoke," she says with a bitter laugh.

The man furrows his brow. "That's no way for a li'l girl to talk."

She shrugs. "Where's the place?" she asks after a moment.

The man smirks. "Couple miles from here; it's small, but if we know anything about protecting something, we know the smaller the better, isn't that right Lassie?"

"You have people?"

"Forty-two to be exact."

Lassie's brow rises. She hadn't seen more than ten people in one place since this whole thing began. "How do you have so many?"

"If you build it, they will come," he says with a deep chuckle.

"They just showed up?" Lassie says with a roll of her eyes.

"Some were in groups prior… some were found… but, yes, some of them just showed up, like you said."

"What's _your_ name?"

The man lets another chuckle sound off. "People call me the Governor—I don't know why, just happened upon me."

Lassie furrows her brow. "Why would I go with you?"

"Because I offer safety and, frankly, you're not gonna get much out here. That cabin of yours will only keep the biters out for so long—,"

"You know where I'm stayin'?" Lassie takes a step back.

"I do," the Governor says with a single nod. "I also know there's another one in there. I'm not too sure why he stays in while you man the grounds, but I'm sure he has his reasons as do you."

Lassie swallows dryly. "What if I don't want to go with you?"

"I'm still waiting to see if you are." The man presses his lips together and takes two steps closer. "It's not just you you've got to worry about, Lassie. That boy's got a pretty bad limp on him. We have people who can care for him. You don't need that all on you. I'm offering you… a better life," he says with another smile. "Now, if you're not wanting it, I'm gonna ask that boy because chances are he'll say yes and I'm not gonna have you take that opportunity away from him."

Lassie's eyebrows knit as she looks back at the Governor. He was clean shaven and well kempt—a far cry from the people she had seen. "How do I know you're tellin' me the truth?"

The Governor gives her a light shrug before a pleasant smirk. "How can you tell when anyone's telling the truth nowadays?" Lassie watches him carefully as he takes another step towards her. "You can't; you've gotta go on gut feelings these days. Your head will only get you so far—but the gut; that's primal, it's instinct." The Governor's brow furrows as Lassie presses her lips together. "What's your gut tellin' you, Lassie?"

"I—," a holler cuts her off. Suddenly, the oddity of seeing another person is gone and she is back in survival mode. Lassie quickly races out of the bushes and into the yard of the cabin. "Hey!" she hollers as a man butt-strokes Matt to the ground with his rifle. "I said hey!" she hollers again making one of the men turn towards her. She pulls out the empty Beretta 9mm and aims at the one who turned towards her.

"Lassie, put the gun down; I'll look after this—," the girl jumps as a hand rests on her shoulder and the Governor passes her by.

"Governor, you better tell that kid to lower her weapon; I don't like how she's staring," the man says as the Governor nears him. Suddenly, the man keels over as the Governor hits the man just under his ribs. Lassie keeps her gun aimed as the Governor continues over to the man with the rifle. He grips the man's shoulders and pushes him back allowing Matt enough room to breath.

"Did I tell you to use force?" the Governor hollers out as he turns to the two men. "I told you this could have been handled in a civil way!" he growls. He then turns to Matt and offers the boy a hand. "Are you all right, son?"

Matt furrows his brow and nods as he wipes at the blood dripping from his nose.

"I'm serious, Governor, make her stop aiming that gun," the first man hollers before taking out his own pistol and aiming at Lassie.

"Lassie, put the gun down. They're not going to do anymore harm; I swear." Slowly, Lassie lowers her harmless weapon and places it back in the small of her back between her skin and her pants' waistband.

"Martinez, that means you too," he calls out as the man holsters his own pistol. "Where's—,"

"In the cabin; he was the one who found the boy. Said he was hiding under some stairs like a scared animal—,"

"Looks like a damn wolverine went and ripped through the place," a third nameless man says as he steps down from the cabin's stoop. He lets out a wheezy chuckle as he runs one hand through his hair. Lassie cocks her head slightly at the sound but keeps her distance. She watches him carefully as he looks down at Matt and shakes his head.

"I thought you said there were two of 'em," he says as he turns his eyes to the Governor. "The other a better runner than this one or somethin'?" he asks with another wheezy chuckle.

"She's here," the Governor says quietly with his head nodding off to Lassie. "Might be best if you didn't approach her; she seems skittish, you might just make her run, Merle—,"

"Merle?" Lassie calls out with her heart fluttering. The man cocks his head as he looks across the yard to the girl.

"Who's askin'?" Merle calls out with his hand rising to his hip.

Lassie opens her mouth to speak but cannot find her voice. A fight between a smile and frown play on her lips as she takes a rubbery step towards the men. "A li'l lady," she calls back; the words are quieter than she intended.

Merle furrows his brow for a moment as the words whirl around in his cranium. He takes a step forward and shakes his head. "Lassie?" he calls out.

Lassie's eyes shoot to Martinez as the man looks between the two and settle on Merle. "Yeah," she calls back before wiping at her pooling eyes.

"You know her?" the Governor asks.

Merle furrows his brow as he watches his little sister stand in the open; her hair cropped short and face so dirty he could barely see himself in her anymore. "Don't you see the family resemblance; that's my baby sister," he says quietly.

"You're Daryl—,"

Merle glares down at the bloody nosed boy. _Daryl_; it almost hurt that _that_ was the name that came out of the kid's mouth. As if his sister only spoke about the other Dixon... or maybe _he_ was the other Dixon. Merle curls his nose and narrows his eyes.

"You got rice in your ears; my name's Merle," he growls. Matt lowers his chin at the insult. Merle takes a deep breath as Lassie continues to stay her ground. "You gonna come over here or do I have to come get you?" he calls out to his sister. Timidly at first, Lassie makes her way to her brother, though it does not take long for those timid steps to turn into a sprint.

Just as she gets two feet away, Lassie stops abruptly and looks down at her feet. Was he still mad at her? Did he even want to see her after all the things she did?

Merle stands looking down at her, unsure how to react—what to say or what to do. Suddenly, he feels her arms wrap around him tightly. His eyes widen for a moment before he brings his own arms around her.

They stand together in each other's arms for a long moment. Lassie not wanting him to let go because she was afraid if he let go she would wake up and be back in the cabin alone with Matt; and Merle didn't want her to release because he didn't want the others to see the salty droplets tailing down his cheeks.

As he rubs his hand on her back, he feels her shoulders bounce from her sobs. Merle clears his throat and lowers his head to her shoulder. "It's all right, li'l lady. Nothin' bad's gonna happen. You're safe now."

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

"You'll be stayin' here tonight," the Governor says as he walks the length of the room they stand in. "I'll have Crowley bring you both something to eat," he adds as he looks back at Lassie and Matt. "I can't imagine how hungry you two are." He pauses for a moment. "That was a lie," he says with his eyes falling to the ground. "I think everyone here might know that feeling," he adds with a bit of a nod.

"Merle will be coming in shortly. He just needed to get a few things done." The Governor paces back to them. "There's a cot in the room there and a double bed in that one," he says with his head nodding off to the rooms.

"Where are all the people?" Lassie asks as she looks to the curtain covered windows.

The Governor gives her his gentlemanly smile and cocks his head slightly. "We've found that the biters seem to be attracted to noise. After dark, everyone stays indoors to keep from bringing more attention to ourselves." He shrugs. "It's a small price to pay for safety," he adds. "In the morning, you'll see them all. Woodbury is a very close community; almost everyone is on a first name basis. It won't take long for you to meet everyone."

"What's the penalty?" Matt asks as he turns towards the man. The Governor furrows his brow. "What happens if we're caught out at night?"

"You're questioned. If you have a legitimate reason to be out there, you're fine so long as you're not makin' too much noise. But if you don't, you'll have a nice chaperone everyday all day for about a week."

"That doesn't sound too rough," Lassie says with her eyes meeting with Matt's.

"Rough?" Matt smirks. "My grandma's dished out better punishments than that—,"

"We're not here to dictate how you go about livin'. This is a home. However, if you're gonna put yourself at risk, you're putting everyone at risk. Something will happen if you continue to do so." The Governor's sky blue eyes look to Lassie and he lets out a chuckle. "I already know you two won't stir up too much trouble. I get the feeling you want this to work out."

Suddenly, the door swings open and the figure that enters is greeted with a gun aimed at his head and a knife ready to strike. Merle furrows his brow as he swings the door shut behind him. After a second he knocks Lassie's pistol down and narrows his eyes at Matt. "You didn't disarm 'em?" he asks.

"Didn't think I needed to," the Governor says as the boy and girl put away their weapons. He lets out a chuckle. "I guess it'll take some getting use to. It took Merle about a week to get off edge—,"

"I'm sorry," Lassie says as Merle looks back at her.

Merle shakes his head with a smirk. "Just glad you waited," he says.

"It's empty," Lassie says after a moment.

"It's just for show," Matt adds. "People are afraid of guns and you can't really tell if there's bullets or not—,"

"That's good thinkin'," Merle says.

The Governor furrows his brow. "Beretta nine mill?"

Lassie nods. "Friend o' mine gave it to me—,"

"That's a good friend," he says with a nod. "But, I don't think you'll need it for now." He turns to Matt. "And as for that hunting knife, it's unnecessary." Matt furrows his brow as Lassie chews her lip. "It's precaution; I need you to give them to me. You'll get them back if you ever decide to leave or go for a run." Lassie's eyes dart to Merle.

Her brother takes a step forward. "The only people who need weapons here are those who man the fence or do runs, Lassie. You and Charlie don't need them. There's lots of protection; you don't have to worry," Merle says.

"If it makes you feel better, Merle will be staying here for the night. He has his own gun; might put your minds at ease."

Lassie nods and reaches for her gun. "Okay," she says quietly. The Governor takes her pistol and she reaches for the knife looped in her belt.

"We've been looking for a nice bread knife," he says with a smirk and Lassie's eyebrows invert.

Matt gives the man his own knife and Lassie shakes her head. "I don't think you should use it… it's still got blood on it." Lassie's brow rises as the Governor lets out a laugh. "If you do, I wouldn't tell anyone where you got it from—,"

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," the man says as he loops the knives in his own belt.

"Where's Crowely? I'm starvin'," Merle says as he makes his way to the small table and sits in one of the chairs.

The Governor smiles and takes a breath. "I'll go look for him and leave you to catch up," he says. "If you have a problem—,"

"Governor, it's okay," Merle says.

The man nods his head. "I'll see y' all in the morning," he says before opening the door and turning back. "Goodnight, Matt," he says with his eyes on the boy before looking to Lassie. "Goodnight, Lassie." Matt and Lassie nod and the Governor closes the door behind him.

Merle watches as Lassie looks up at the painting on the wall and he smiles. It had been so long since he had last seen her that when he finally did see her all he saw was some dirty faced young woman—not the little girl he watched grow.

"I think I'm going to bed," Matt says as he runs a hand through his hair. "It's been a long day," he adds as Lassie watches him.

"You ain't hungry, Charlie?" Merle asks with an arch eyebrow.

Matt shakes his head. "Just need some time…" Slowly, he makes his way to the room with the cot and closes the door.

It takes a moment, but finally, Lassie looks to her brother as he traces the table's wood lines with his finger. He had gotten old; new lines made up the map of his face, but he was still Merle—albeit, a far cry from the drug dealer she knew, but the same.

"What happened to your hand?" she finally asks as the blade protruding from his stump lays across his lap.

Merle gives a shrug. "A damn tragedy, that's what."

Lassie nods and makes her way to the chair across from him. It was strange; they knew more about each other than any other person on the planet, yet they looked back at each other like strangers meeting for the first time. Lassie tucks her hair behind her ears as her eyes struggle to fixate on something.

"What happened to your hair?"

"A damn tragedy," she says with a grin. Merle narrows his eyes at her before returning the smile.

Merle sighs as he brings his blade onto the table. "I was cuffed on a rooftop in Atlanta."

Lassie furrows her brow. "How does that happen?"

"Bein' high and shootin' bullets for no damn reason," Merle says through the side of his mouth. "I'm not sayin' it was _all_ my fault, but a good amount." He nods. "They lost the key… and I didn't wanna die."

Lassie watches him for a moment. "How'd you fix it up?" she asks.

"Cauterized it and almost passed out." He stretches his face. "Hurt like a son o' a bitch, but it needed to be done." There's silence between them for a moment as they study each other. There were so many questions between them, but neither of them seemed willing to ask. "The hair looks all right," Merle finally says after a nod. "Looks better long, but it's okay for now."

Lassie smirks. "Couple weeks ago I caught a glimpse of my reflection 'n' I almost swore it was a picture of you when you were young—,"

"I always told Daryl I'd make a pretty girl 'n' you're livin' proof," Merle says with a wheezy chuckle. Lassie shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "I don't know where he is," Merle says with his mouth falling from his perched smile.

"I figured as much," Lassie says quietly.

Merle furrows his brow. "How'd you meet Charlie?" he asks.

Lassie gives a light shrug. "We found each other…" She takes a deep breath and exhales it loudly. "How do you meet anyone nowadays?" The girl scratches her arm and hunches slightly. "You just… run into each other 'n' hope for the best but always think the worst."

Merle clears his throat. "Is there something goin' on between you two?" Lassie watches her brother as the lines in his face deepen. "Am I lookin' at potential brother-in-law?"

"God no," Lassie spits out making Merle laugh. "He's a friend. I like him and he's never done anything wrong."

"Just keep it that way, li'l lady. The last thing this world needs is a teen pregnancy—,"

"I can keep it in my pants—,"

Merle draws his chin back as his widened eyes look back at his sister. Lassie's lips part as she lowers her eyes to the table. "I don't ever wanna hear you talk like that again," Merle says. Lassie gives a solid nod. "I'm just lookin' out for you," he adds.

"I know," Lassie says softly.

The door opens again, but rather than startling, Lassie merely turns her head to see Crowley balancing three plates. Merle rises and takes the food. As he places the plates on the table, Crowley leaves without a single word.

Merle's eyes rise to Lassie and he raises his brow. "You wanna go get Charlie?"

Lassie shakes her head. "He wanted to sleep," she says. Merle nods and removes the foil wrap of two plates. As the two sit silently, Lassie waits for Merle to eat first. She watches as he shovels the food into his mouth until, finally, she gives herself over to the meal with her mouth watering.

"You're a shit dealer," Merle says as he lowers his fork to the table. Lassie makes a face as she pauses. "Saw you in Atlanta about eight months ago," he continues before picking his fork up again. "Middle o' downtown, in some parking lot." He shakes his head. "You tried hidin' the drugs in your handshake-chest-bump bullshit while the guy slipped the money in your pocket." Merle smirks as he looks back at the frozen Lassie. "A blind man could have seen that shit coming for miles," he says with a wheezy laugh.

Lassie feels her face redden.

"Tried keepin' you from doin' the same shit as me—but nobody told me it was a family business," he adds.

"It wasn't weed," Lassie says through the side of her mouth.

"I don't want to know what it was—,"

"I mean it wasn't drugs," she says. "He thought it was… but it was just dried oregano—,"

"You were dealin' spices?"

Lassie smirks. "If it was real and police got involved, chances were I'd just get a slap on the wrist." She shrugs. "Better safe than sorry—,"

"Safe would have been sellin' the product the person thought it was," Merle says before popping a piece of meat in his mouth.

Lassie lets out a chuckle. "Tell me 'bout it. One of them found me again," she says as she pokes around the food with her fork. "Chased me for, like… six blocks." She looks back at Merle as he nods his head. "Probably would have gotten beaten up if Joe wasn't there—,"

"_Joe_?" Merle cocks his head.

Lassie shakes her head. "He's no one. Well—he worked at a homeless centre." She grins at the memory. "Scared the kid away and then offered me a bed for the night." Lassie shrugs. "He was a good guy. You would've liked him."

"Would I?"

"Yeah," she says as she takes a bite of the meat on her plate. "Kind of reminded me of you; he was just… he seemed like an ass, but he was a really good guy. He knew things too." Lassie takes a breath. "If you were under his wing, nothing would stop him from protectin' you. He was like a dad to everyone there." She furrows her brow. "He even made stupid jokes like normal dad's do."

"Like what?" Merle asks; the curiosity wasn't there, but he wanted to hear more of Lassie's voice.

"Like—," Lassie looks up as if a joke could be written on the ceiling, "—a panda walks into a bar. He says, "I'll have a scotch and…"," Lassie looks around the room as if to exaggerate her silence, ""Coke, thank you." The bartender stays, "Sure thing, pal, but what's with the big pause?" The panda bear holds up his hands and says, "I was born with 'em,"."

Merle lets out a chuckle as Lassie hums a laugh. "That's a terrible joke," he says and Lassie nods. "Sounds like he was interestin'," he adds.

"He called me kit cat," Lassie says as if it were an after thought. "One time at the centre, I was in the rec room and there was clay, so I made somethin'." She shakes her head. "Joe came over and looked down and said, "That's a mighty fine cat y' got there,"." Lassie laughs. "It wasn't a cat—or it wasn't s'posed to be."

"What was it?" Merle asks.

"A dog…" Lassie licks her lips. "He laughed for about five minutes and then started callin' me kit cat." The girl furrows her brow and shakes her head. "I'm sorry… I know I'm blabbin'—I'll stop now."

Merle looks back at her and shakes his head. "It's a good thing I like the way your voice sounds." Merle smirks. "Keep talkin'," he urges.

"I missed you," Lassie says softly. She swallows back the lump in her throat. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again… I was scared, Merle—really scared."

"I was too," Merle says with a nod.

"When things started getting' really bad, I wrote a letter to you and Daryl." She shakes her head. "By the time it was ready, though, things were way worse. Joe started to pack up the centre. We were all supposed to get on this bus 'n' leave the city." Lassie swallows again. "That never happened," she says quietly. "I was on my own… it's a miracle I got out of the city before those bombs were dropped." She furrows her brow. "At first, I looked for you guys… and then things happened… and then lookin' for food and water kinda became more important than lookin' for people."

Merle nods. "I know."

"Did you look for me?" Lassie asks; her voice is painfully timid as she watches her brother.

"As soon as we heard Atlanta was still safe, we made our way there. I don't know if Daryl's mind was on lookin' for you, but I know mine was." He takes a moment. "The traffic was so backed upped on the highway." Merle looks to the table. "And then one night, the sky lit up and… I thought I stopped lookin'." He shakes his head. "I didn't think you got out." Merle scratches behind his ear as he looks back to his plate with a furrowed brow. "The group I was with that did this—," he nods his head to his missing hand, "—we did runs there." Merle's brow deepens its furrow. "I looked in the city—figured if I saw you turned, I'd put you down. When we were at camp, Daryl and I rarely stayed for long. We'd say we were trackin' animals, but I sure as hell wasn't.

"If there was a chance my sister was alive, I wasn't willin' to waste a second not lookin'." Merle takes a breath. "All I could think about was a li'l girl either turned or with the wrong people." The man lets out a weak laugh. "Turns out I was wrong. You ain't a li'l girl and you weren't with the wrong people."

* * *

**Thanks for the reviews last chapter!**

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

She ran; tears streaming her face and heart pounding a hundred miles a minute, she was finally out of the city. As she slows to a stop, Lassie keels over and vomits on the highway's shoulder. All those faces—all those people; gone. She shakes her head and wipes the side of her mouth. Joe told her to run and so she did. She kept her eyes ahead even when she heard people begging for help—even when she thought she could hear Joe hollering. Lassie dry heaves. As she straightens, she feels a cold shiver make its way up her spine. The highway was empty. No sign of people evacuating or entering Atlanta.

"You're not authorized to be here—," Lassie spins on her heels and sees a woman in military uniform looking down at her. A man dressed just the same stands behind her with his rifle ready.

"Mazes, call it in," the woman says with her head turning towards the man. He nods and just as the woman turns back to Lassie, the girl grabs at the pistol holstered in the woman's belt. She dodges as the woman attempts to stop her, but Lassie rises quickly with sweat and tears gluing her hair to her face. Her chest rises and falls rapidly as the gun sets readied on the woman across from her.

The woman slowly raises her hands. "Put the gun down—,"

"Shut up or I'll shoot," Lassie hollers as she looks at the woman and then Mazes. Adrenaline makes her hands shake and fear makes her head spin.

The targeted woman nods. "Lower your weapon, private," she says slowly to the man behind her.

"I can take her out—,"

"That's an order, Mazes!" she hollers as her voice falters on his name. "I've got a goddamn pistol pointed at my face," she growls as she turns her head partway to her partner. Mazes takes a deep breath and slowly lowers the rifle to the pavement of the highway before pushing it away with a kick.

"Nice and easy, girl," the woman says with her eyebrows raised. "Sergeant First Class Adrienne Yorkshire," she says as she nods her head to her own name. The woman nudges her head to the man behind her. "That's Private First Class Jonathon Mazes." Her breath hitches in her chest as she takes a timid step forward.

"Don't move!" Lassie hollers as she readjusts the gun in her hands.

The woman shakes her head. "Are you going to shoot me?" she asks and Lassie narrows her eyes. "Because if you were going to shoot me, I'd hope you knew to take the safety off—,"

"I already did," Lassie spits.

Sergeant First Class Adrienne Yorkshire swallows hard. It was a far cry but she had seen it work in the movies; if the girl looked back at the gun, she could take the time and tackle her to the ground and get the pistol out of her hands.

"You know how to handle a Beretta 9mm?" Mazes asks and the girl's eyes shoot to him.

"All I need to know is where the trigger," she says as her finger gently glides onto the trigger. "I know how to shoot, my daddy taught me. Don't need you tellin' me," she adds through gritted teeth.

"You understand what you're doing right now is incredibly illegal," Adrienne says as she takes another step forward. Suddenly, the two flinch as two bullets hit the pavement at their feet.

"I've already warned you," Lassie says. "I won't hesitate."

"What do you want?" Sergeant First Class Adrienne Yorkshire asks carefully.

Lassie presses her lips together as tears form in her eyes. "A way out."

* * *

Lassie rolls onto her side and stiffens under the blanket. She rises quickly only to calm as she sees Merle pass by the open bedroom door. She takes a deep breath and palms her face. "It wasn't a dream," she whispers to herself.

After a moment, the girl rises from the bed and puts on the ragged old sweater that had become more of a second skin than article of clothing. As she leaves the room, she sees Matt sitting at the table with eggs on a fork ready to enter his mouth.

"Let me get this straight; you call me Charlie because it's some military code?"

"More or less," Merle says as he turns his head to the boy. "Back in the Vietnam War, the Americans created a code name for the Vietcong; Victor Charlie. It was shortened to Charlie," he says.

"So… not only is it intentionally _not_ my name, but it's also a racial slur towards me?"

Merle squares himself to Matt and stretches his face before a nod. "Yeah," he says. "I could call you Hapa—that's what you kids call it nowadays, isn't it?"

"Sure…" Matt says before biting the eggs off his fork.

"Back in my day, we didn't have a name for it 'cause we had the decency to stick to our own kind," Merle says as he examines the papers on the cabinet before him. "But, I'm a decent guy; which ever name you prefer. It don't matter to me, Charlie," Merle says with a smirk as he turns back away.

"Says the guy who dated that Guatemalan chick?" Lassie asks as she makes her way to the table.

"Good mornin' to you too," Merle says as he turns back to his sister. "Now, Gabriela was a one time deal—ain't no chance in hell that'll happen again." Merle bites his bottom lip at the memory and sets his eyes on Matt. "Nice ass, tits you could lose yourself in—damn," he says before a chuckle. "They say the blacks got asses… but those girls—the Latinas." He shakes his head. "If they were a race track, you'd crash and burn 'cause of all the curves."

Merle raises his brow as he looks to his sister. "The only reason you met her was 'cause I thought I was gonna be alone for the night 'til Daryl came poppin' in with you," he adds.

Lassie smirks. She had came running in screaming for Merle the second Daryl unlocked the trailer's door. Her older brother didn't seem to miss a beat when she jumped in the air at him and he caught her before a tickle fight. Lassie raises her hands as Matt watches the two. "Sorry for crampin' your game," she says before grabbing a fork.

Merle rolls his eyes. "She was six at the time. Didn't even notice Gabby was naked and wrapped in a bed sheet—li'l lady thought it was a dress," he says with a laugh. He gives a shrug as Matt nods his head slowly. "Anyway, stuff your faces quickly," he says as he looks back to the documents. "The Governor is still tryin' to place you both, so 'til that time, you'll be workin' with Shannon in the kitchen." Merle picks the papers up and lowers his brow as he looks to the two children. "Don't go messin' shit up," he warns.

"You've got nothin' to worry about, Merle—,"

"I don't know," he says as he narrows his eyes at Lassie. "Last I remember, you were pretty good at doin' shit you weren't s'posed to be doin'."

"I'll make sure she stays straight," Matt says quickly before Lassie can argue back.

Merle lets out a wheezy chuckle and shakes his head. "I'll take your word for it, Charlie," he says. After a moment of watching them eat, Merle shakes his head with impatience. "Shovel it in—we should've been gone ten minutes ago—,"

"Then you should have woke me," Lassie barks back.

Merle looks to the door and then back to them. "Let's go," he calls out as Lassie stuffs more egg in her mouth than she can chew. "Time to begin the day," he says as he opens the door and waits.

Matt and Lassie quickly hustle; their chairs screech on the floor as they push themselves up and away from the table. Just as Lassie makes her way past Merle, the man places and arm before her and stops. Lassie narrows her eyes as Merle uses a hand to flatten the girl's hair.

"Better," he says with a nod before allowing her to pass.

Just as Lassie's feet touch the sidewalk, she bumps into Matt. She furrows her brow for a second until she sees what keeps him so mesmerized. Lassie's lips part as her hand rises to her chest. There were people—actual people. She takes a half step back.

"This is amazing," Matt whispers as the people move on throughout their day as if nothing were wrong. "I think we found those people," he adds before tearing his eyes from the view.

"What people?" Lassie asks.

"The one's whose Monday morning had a hiccup," he says and Lassie smirks.

As Merle leads them to their destination, Matt and Lassie's eyes wander the area. A wall made up of cars and steel sheets stands nearly fifteen feet tall. Two men and a woman stand as high as they can on the wall with firearms readied for even the slightest threat to appear. Lassie swallows hard as one of the men turn and look out to them.

Merle waves and the man nods before turning back. "Only the pros get put up there," he says and Lassie bobs her head slowly. "It's a borin' job," Merle adds. "But somebody's gotta do it."

As they enter the small building, the group is immediately greeted with heat. Matt and Lassie slow their pace as a strange man in an apron stands waiting behind a counter. The man narrows his eyes as Merle steps up to him.

"Is this the help?" he asks.

Merle's brow rises and he gives a nod. "Yup."

"All right," the man says quickly with a nod and clap of his hands. "You—," he points to Matt, "—breakfast dishes should be coming back any time. I want you to gather them up; plates in one pile, forks in another, and knives in another. Cups; just stack them. You're going to put all the dishes away after they've been washed too." The man waves a hand to Lassie to come forth. The speed of his words are almost enough to knock a person out.

"Keep an eye on this one," Merle warns.

"What; is she a fighter or something?"

"My sister—,"

"No kidding," the man says with a chuckle before silencing himself as he looks back at Merle. "All right," he says. "You're on dish pit. Everything that comes through here you're cleaning today, you feel me?" Lassie arches a brow. The man smirks. "The Dixon resemblance is strong," he says. "Poor kid," he adds and Merle smacks his arm. "Anyway, we wash the dishes in order of the dirt scale." Matt's brows knit at the words. "Cups first because all that goes in them is water; forks and knives next; plates and bowls after; and then the heavy stuff like pots and pans." The man gives a shrug. "With the system you don't need to keep emptying the sink. We're already running low on the rain water… so just keep that in mind when you think about pulling the plug." The man raises his hands in a shrug. "If you need to soak a pot or pan, fill it with water and I'll boil it for a while." His eyes bounce between Lassie and Matt. "No one touches the stove except me—capisce?"

The two nod and Merle lets out a laugh. "Shannon, you've already got them thinkin' this shit is the real deal—," he says. The man shakes his head and steps towards the propped open door. "I'll see you guys later," Merle says before exiting the building.

"Don't just stand there, get a move on—if there's time to lean there's time to clean," Shannon chides with his hands clapping as if to bring the children to haste.

Slowly, Matt approaches a counter with several dishes carelessly tossed and begins arranging them accordingly to Shannon's direction.

"You," the man says with a finger pointing to Lassie. "Follow me; I'll take you to the dish pit." Lassie nods and quickens her pace as the man shoots through a doorway. As Lassie's feet follow, the heat inside nearly doubles within the extra set of walls she passes through.

"The sink's been filled, all you have to do is add the soap," Shannon says as he holds up a large bright blue bottle of bubble blowing soap. Lassie furrows her brow. "I know, it's for kids, right?" He shrugs. "Same shit as dish detergent and it foams real easy, so that's a plus." Shannon shrugs. "They brought back a bunch of it during a run. Better than nothing," he adds on a breath.

He claps his hands again and nods. "All you do—," he pours in a small amount, "—dump some in and splash it around—," he picks a cup up and dunks it and pours the water back into the sink causing bubbles to form. Lassie gives a small grin. "I know, magic, right?" Shannon shakes his head. "Just keep doing that to your satisfaction and then I'll get the guy to bring in the dishes when you're ready." Shannon presses his thin lips together. "You got all that?" he asks after a second as Lassie stares at the water.

"Yeah," she says.

"You sure?" he asks and Lassie gives a slow nod. "You just seem a little off," he adds. Suddenly, he gives her a nudge. "It's a trip, isn't it?" he asks with his voice lowering and Lassie furrows her brow. "All that time out there and then suddenly you're expected to just… _live_. You get a job and a bed to sleep in." Shannon shakes his head. "Takes a while for the nightmares to go," he nearly whispers. He gives a smirk. "You're still young; you can probably adapt better than most people here." He takes a step back as Lassie continues to watch the bubbles drift in the water. "If you need me to slow down or… just want to talk… I'm here—well, not _here_, but just down the hall," he says with a nod off to a narrow corridor. "If you or your friend need me, don't be afraid to call." Shannon's eyes wince. "Might need to be a little louder than necessary; I went to a lot of concerts before all of this."

"Thanks," Lassie says with a nod as her eyes tear from the sink and look to the man.

"No problem," he says before heading off.

As Lassie dunks, empties, and repeats with the cup, she takes a long breath. It _really_ was a trip. She thought all she wanted was a safe place where she could resume normal life—and, if possible, it would be with her brothers. Now, standing before the dish pit of some rundown hotter than hell building, Lassie was almost missing being out. The girl furrows her brow as the bubbles build up in the sink.

This wasn't how her old life was. She never woke up to hear people talking—she was used to hollers and drunken slurs. Lassie bites her bottom lip. People in the town seemed normal enough—but Merle was different. He was tame compared to his old self. Lassie didn't like that—not because her brother changed, but because _she_ didn't want to change.

"You ready yet?" Lassie startles at the sound of Matt's voice. He places a hand on her should and swallows his laugh. "Sorry, you okay?" he asks and Lassie nods. "Are you ready?" he asks again.

"Yeah, bring 'em in," she murmurs.

As Matt comes back, he rolls a trolley filled with cups and utensils. "This sucks," Matt utters as he lowers the cups into the sink. "Dishes… of all things, they make us do dishes," he mumbles.

"Better than cleanin' toilets," Lassie says with a smirk. "And check this out," she adds as she picks up the bottle of bubble soap.

"No way," Matt says after straighten from reading the label. "Don't get it on the floor," he warns. "That shit's slippery—,"

"You're missing the point," Lassie says with her upper lip curled. She dumps a bit out onto her hand and then gives it a quick dunk in the water before rubbing her fingers together on her palm. "Watch," she says with a half smile. She makes a circle with her index and thumb and brings it to Matt's lips. "Blow," she directs as the young man furrows his brow.

Matt shakes his head. "My breath doesn't smell too great—,"

"Just blow," she urges and Matt obliges. Three bubbles fly out of her hand as she smiles. Matt stiffly looks down at her and gives a nervous laugh.

Lassie watches as two of the bubbles burst in the air and the third hits the floor. She turns back to the sink and nods. "Your breath smells like shit by the way," she says as she grips a sponge and wipes a cup.

"Oh yeah?" Matt challenges and as Lassie turns back to him, Matt shoves his hand into the sink and splashes her. Lassie lets out a shriek and glares up at him playfully. He points to the water stain on the girl's sweater and says, "You got something on your… uh… sweater—,"

The sponge flies up and smacks him across the face.

Matt looks down at Lassie with shock; quickly, he reaches back into the sink and takes a cup filled with water.

"Don't you dare," Lassie rushes out with her hands raised. Matt mimes tossing the water out to her and she shrieks as she rushes behind the trolley with a laugh. "Matt, I'm serious," she adds with a smirk.

"You're right," Matt says with a nod as he turns away. "This is something kids would do," he says with his voice dropping before quickly turning back to her and tossing the soapy water right in her face. Lassie takes no time and grabs at Matt's hands before he can run away. They wrestle each other and laugh loudly as their struggles seem equally matched. Suddenly, Matt loses his footing and Lassie gains the upper hand. She bends him over the sink and laughs manically as his face sits mere inches above the water.

"No fair—I slipped—,"

"You're just mad because I won—,"

"Against a gimp!" Matt laughs as Lassie snorts. "What do you plan on doing?"

"This—," Lassie pushes the back of the boy's head and quickly releases once the water hits his face. She backs away as Matt straightens with a gasp and shakes his wet hair out.

"That's so gross!" he hollers and Lassie bends with her laugh. "It's cold!" Matt wipes at his eyes and squints. "I think I'm blind!" Matt dramatically stretches his arms out as if to feel where he stands. "Help me, Lassie," he whimpers. "I can't see," he adds as he lowers to his knees and drops his face down.

Lassie shakes her head and makes her way to him. "Get up, Matt," she says with slight annoyance. Matt reclines himself back with a sigh as he lies on the floor. "Matt," Lassie says as she bends over.

"I can't," he wheezes out. "I'm dead," he adds before sticking his tongue out.

Lassie rolls her eyes. "Come on, we've got work to do—," Matt grips her wrist and pulls her down as she slips on the water on the floor. She lands across his ribs and makes his groan with the landing. "I thought you were dead," Lassie says with a laugh.

"I am," Matt says as he continues to lie down. He places his arms over Lassie's back preventing her from standing. "And now you are too," he adds. Lassie struggles to push herself up and Matt brings his chin to his chest as he watches her. "See, no matter how hard you try, you can't get up." He nods his head. "It's because you're dead."

"That's a li'l morbid," Lassie says as drops herself with a sigh of frustration. After a moment, she turns her head to Matt. "How long are we dead for?" she asks.

Matt gives a shrug. "Could be months," he says making Lassie chuckle. He holds a hand up. "Maybe—and I'm just saying _maybe_—forever," he adds before laughing with Lassie.

"Well, if I'm gonna be dead forever, at least let me be comfortable," she says as she pulls herself off of him and onto the floor next to him.

As the two lie on the floor and stare up at the ceiling they both take in a long breath. "Never thought I could get back to this," Matt softly whispers.

"You used to lie on kitchen floors?" Lassie says with an arched eyebrow as she turns her face to his.

"No," Matt says with his brow furrowing for a second. "I mean… _this_." He shakes his head. "I thought fooling around was over," he admits. "I never thought I'd have a water war again—,"

"That was just a battle. You won't win the war," Lassie says with a giggle as Matt turns his face to hers. He watches her for a second and, with his heart racing, he leans towards her and kisses her. Lassie's first instinct is to push him away, but, instead, she closes her eyes and hopes for the best while thinking about the worst.

"Nice to see you two workin' so hard—," Matt pulls away and Lassie sits up to see the Governor looming in the doorway.

* * *

**I'll be the first to admit, this was a little fluffy...**

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

"Shannon," the Governor booms making the two startle as they rise to their feet. Quickly, Shannon comes racing out of the office only to slow his steps as he sees Matt's soaked head and Lassies watered down clothes.

"What the hell happened?"

"I was hopin' you could answer that for me," the Governor booms as he looks down at the man. "Why were these two left unattended?"

"Uh-they-erm-they were just doing dishes—I didn't think they needed it—,"

"They're children," the Governor says slowly making the words echo in Matt and Lassie's heads. The man shakes his head and glowers down at the girl and boy. "Clean this mess up and when you're finished, I'll be outside." The Governor darts his eyes back to Shannon as he points a finger to the man. "Keep an eye on them," he says sternly.

* * *

Sergeant First Class Adrienne Yorkshire rips at her torn pant leg until the fabric releases.

"I'm going to die—I'm going to die," Private First Class Jonathon Mazes repeats over and over as blood continues to redden his shoulder.

"You're not going to die," Adrienne says firmly as she wraps the fabric around the man's wound. "Remember; they gave us those shots—,"

"They gave the same one to Michaels and he still turned," Mazes rushes out before grunting with the pressure on his bite mark. Lassie watches the doors to the barn; only a thin shovel kept the doors propped shut. She takes a shaky breath. There were so many of them outside there was no way the door would stay closed.

"Just hold this here," Adrienne says as she places his hand over the makeshift bandage. "Lassie, you still have that bottle of whiskey?" she shouts making the girl turn towards them.

"Yeah," she calls back as she reaches into her pack. So many things kept her hands from finding the bottle's neck—useless things, things she thought she would need but never found the opportunity to use them.

"Bring it here. I need to disinfect this and he's not going to like it—,"

"I'm going to die," Mazes looks up at Lassie as she approaches. Tears trace down the sides of the man's face. "You're going to have to put me out—I don't want to become one of those—,"

"For the last time, Jonathon, you're not going to die!" Yorkshire hollers as she hits the ground with her fist. The two watch her for a moment as she glares back at the scared man. "I'm sorry," she nearly whispers as her voice falters and eyes fall. "Just listen to me, okay?" Private First Class Jonathon Mazes nods his head stiffly. "I'm scared too," she admits with softness in her eyes but intensity written across her brow. "But I'm not going to lose you—we're not going to lose you."

Lassie eyes dart to the doors as hands from outside bang on it.

"This is going to hurt—but you know that," Adrienne says as Mazes nods again. "Just… hold Lassie's hand." The woman shakes her head passively as she uncaps the bottle. Jonathan reaches out and takes Lassie's hand. "Are you ready?" she asks and the man gives a jagged nod. Without a second longer wasted, Adrienne Yorkshire lifts the makeshift bandage from the man's shoulder and spills out a healthy helping of rye onto the wound.

Just as Jonathon opens his mouth in a holler, Lassie covers his lips preventing the man from bringing more attention to their location. Mazes' body stiffens in pain before he turns his head towards the girl and cringes with the remains of the sting. Lassie slowly removes her hand as Adrienne ties the bloodied fabric tight around the man's shoulder.

Suddenly, Private First Class Jonathon Mazes goes limp.

* * *

"Are you mad at us?" Lassie asks as the Governor looks down at the two.

The Governor looks down and shakes his head. "No," he says. That man then looks out to Woodbury's busy street. "It was a mistake," he adds with his gentlemanly smile; "kids will be kids." Lassie lets out a relieved sigh as Matt's shoulders relax. Suddenly, the smile disappears. "However, if it happens again, there _will_ be something done." The man narrows his eyes as he looks back at them. "I already said if you put yourself at risk, you put everyone at risk." The Governor had yet to give them one of his charmed smiles.

"How were we putting ourselves at risk?" Matt asks and the Governor opens his mouth to speak, but the boy continues. "We were having fun—it was just water—,"

"Water that we happen to be runnin' low on; I don't think I have to explain to you why that's a risk," the Governor booms down at them as two people walking by staring.

"I'm sorry," Lassie says quickly as if the apology would calm the situation. "It was stupid," she adds as her eyes fall to the sidewalk. "It won't happen again—,"

"You're right," the man says with a deep nod. "It won't." Lassie's eyes slowly climb up to the Governor's face. "You both have been stationed," he says. "Separately—," Lassie shakes her head and Matt attempts to speak, but the Governor slices his hand in the air as if to stop their protests. "If you two want to make this work, you're goin' to have to do as I say," he says. "You need to be by yourselves—meet people on your own." The Governor's brow furrows gently. "Merle suggested the separation." He shakes his head and runs a hand through his dark hair. "And walkin' in on you two like that, I have to say, I agree with it. If not for your sake, than for ours."

Lassie's eyes widen. "But—,"

"There's no room for debate," the man says. "Matt, you've been stationed with Martinez. I expect you to listen to everything he tells you." Matt's eyes fall to the ground. "If things work out, you'll be making runs as soon as your leg is healed. For the time being, I want you to report to the infirmary; it's the old dentist clinic—third building on the left from the wall." Matt stands for a moment, waiting for Lassie to say something—anything. "What are you waitin' for? Just go in and tell them I sent you. They'll know why," the Governor says sharply. Matt hangs his head low and quickly pushes past. The Governor lets out a sigh before gripping the bridge of his nose.

"Where am I goin'?" Lassie asks in a small voice.

The man's sapphires look down at her and he gives her his prize winning smile. "I will expect you to report to me every day. What you do will vary day to day—,"

"What kind of job is that—,"

"Your brother is a valuable person here at Woodbury, Lassie," the Governor says with an arched brow. "A man with his kind of work ethic isn't just born that way. He's raised like that." He nods his head. "I want to see what kind of person you are. See how you fair with him in the backdrop. He said you're smart and I guess you'd have to be to keep that boy alive for as long as you did." Lassie narrows her eyes. "We need people like that; we need people who are willin' to go to whatever length to keep others safe." He shakes his head. "There aren't many of them left." The Governor clears his throat. "Merle wouldn't allow you to be stationed on the wall… but I have other jobs that keep people safe." The man gives a shrug. "But for now, you'll report to me before I decide where you're permanent work will be."

* * *

Lassie watches as Sergeant First Class Adrienne Yorkshire holds Private Mazes. The man had been dead for what seemed to be hours, but the woman didn't seem to have enough in herself to leave him. The shovel in the barn door was beginning to crack and with each bang, Lassie's anxiety rose no matter how much she wanted to stop and grieve the loss.

"We have to go," she says softly as Adrienne sniffles on her partner's crimson stained uniform. "Yorkshire, we _need_ to get out of here." The girl looks down at the stolen pistol in her pants' waistband and lets out a nervous breath. "Please, Adrienne," she begs but the woman continues to kneel over her friend.

"I'm not strong enough for this," the sergeant nearly whispers as the doors to the barn release a crack. "After being like this for so long… you think you'd forget how to feel… how to be human…" She shakes her head as her eyes touch Lassie briefly. "But the truth is; I think we feel more now." The woman wipes at her cheeks as she looks down at Mazes' corpse. "You didn't have to do that," she says before giving a sad smile and shaking her head. Hey eyes look to Lassie. "I could have gone first and we wouldn't be—,"

"You can't think like that, Adrienne," Lassie says softly. "He wanted to go and do it his way. There was no stopping him—,"

"I could have stopped him!"

"How; by makin' it an order?" Lassie shakes her head. "Mazes was a good man. He was afraid we'd get hurt… he needed to do it his way."

Adrienne presses her lips together as she looks back down at the man. Lassie jumps as the doors crack once more. "Want to know my great advice, kid?" the woman asks as she shakes her head slowly.

The girl doesn't answer, but Adrienne continues none the less. "People either cower and run away or they try to play hero." Adrienne's eyes look up to Lassie. "Ain't no heroes nowadays; only the dead and dying," she says before rising from the man's body. "Don't ever try to be a hero, Lassie."

"I'd rather prolong my death as much as possible," Lassie says quickly.

Sergeant First Class Adrienne Yorkshire nods. "That's the plan," she says. "There's a window here. If we pry the boards, we should be able to get out without them seeing us." She clenches her jaw. "Let's stay dying, Lassie."

* * *

"Well, lookey-here," Merle says as he ruffles his sister's cropped hair. The girl furrows her brow at him as she looks up from the table. "What's the Governor got you doin?" he asks as he sees the ammunition before her.

"Inventory," Lassie says through the side of her mouth before penciling in something on a piece of paper. "Where were you?" she asks as he continues to stand in the oven like heat of the shed with her.

"Went with Crowley on a run," he says passively. "Son o' a bitch almost got me killed; wouldn't listen to me when I told him to use a knife." He shakes his head. "Shot off his gun and brought more attention to ourselves." Merle shakes his head. "The man's no good when it comes to hand-to-hand. I had to save his ass three times before he finally got one."

Lassie shrugs dully. "We can't all have blades as hands," she says before Merle lets out a wheezy laugh.

"I saw your friend," Merle says. "He was walkin' around with some long legged honey," he adds and Lassie's eyes shoot back to the table. "He's got game," he says with a slow and deep nod. "Ambitious, but who doesn't like a little ambition—,"

"It's therapy—,"

"What did he do to get _that_ kind therapy—hell, I'll go through whatever it takes—,"

"You'd get your leg sawed off with no antistatic?" Lassie growls back.

Merle arches a brow. "I've already done my hand," he says with a smirk before laughing and nudging his sister. "Might as well try the leg," he adds. The man watches his sister for a moment. "If I didn't know any better, Lassie, I'd say somethin's wrong." Lassie rolls her eyes and jots more numbers onto the paper. "I know you better than most people, baby sister. Tell your old pal Merle what the problem is, might feel better."

Lassie's eyes look to him and then back to the table as she shakes her head. "I have to report to the Governor every day," Lassie says and Merle's brow inverts. "He's gonna have me be his li'l gofer." Lassie curls her nose. "I ain't no gofer. I know how to do runs—how the hell does he think I've stayed alive for this long?" she asks as she looks back at Merle. "That's the problem with large groups—th-the big guys always underestimate the li'l ones." She drops the clip in her hands down to the table. "I could probably get more shit done than a third of these people—but no—I'm stuck here countin' bullets and writin' that shit down like I'm some kind of manager making order at Dunkin' Donuts!"

"At least you're a manager," Merle says with a smirk and Lassie bangs her hand onto the table making him jump. A moment of silence passes through them as the tension slowly thins out in the tiny shed.

"I don't wanna be doin' this." Lassie clenches her jaw.

"You're too young—,"

"That's bullshit and you know it, Merle," Lassie barks back. "The Governor's gonna have Matt do runs as soon as his leg's good!" She shakes her head. "Matt's the same age as me."

Merle looks down at his sister and gives a shallow nod. "I told the Governor not to put you up to that," he says quietly only to have Lassie stare critically up at him.

"Why?" she asks as her back hunches over.

"I just found you," he says. "The last thing I want is for you to be put at risk. It's a fuckin' miracle we found each other alive. I don't wanna lose you because you wanted to do somethin' more exciting."

Lassie shakes her head. "But you can do these runs, right?"

Merle narrows his eyes, "That's different—,"

"How?"

"I'm older—,"

"And you lack five entire digits," Lassie growls out. "You can't keep dictatin' what I do, Merle—,"

"When the hell did _I_ ever?"

Lassie gives a haughty smirk and raises her chin before letting out a short dry laugh. "If you didn't before, why start now, Merle?" she asks making her brother's blood run cold.

Lassie drops the clipboard filled with numbers knowing better than to continue this conversation. As she leaves the shed, Merle continues to stand in his frozen skin. He keeps his eyes fixated on the far wall as birds chirp in the near distance outside. He clenches his fist as his throat grows raw and sore. All he wanted was for her to be safe. His eyes begin to gloss over as his mind attempts to go back to simpler days only to find there really never were.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

Merle grits his teeth as he watches the door. The sun had gone down nearly two hours ago and Lassie had yet to get inside. He didn't like the idea of his sister breaking the rules—she wasn't the type of person to do that sort of thing. Lassie always seemed to listen and blindly follow even when she didn't want to.

The man takes a deep breath and balls his fist on the table; anger was fuming within him and, at some point, he would need to let it release. For now, it could wait; getting angry with his sister would only make the situation worse. Merle closes his heavy eyelids. It had been such a long day and all he could think about was passing out on the sofa before starting a new early morning.

Lassie didn't like change; nobody did, but it had to be done. Transitions were difficult—if anyone knew that, it was him. Transitioning into an older brother; transitioning into an adult; transitioning into a fucking survivor—in his eyes, he had the evolutionary experience Darwin himself would be amazed by.

"Where is she?" Merle jerks and opens his eyes at the voice. Matt stands in his bedroom door with a t-shirt and shorts on. Merle's eyes briefly touch the boy's face until they catch the exposed lacking limb.

"What's with the stump?" Merle asks in a tired voice.

Matt runs a hand through his dark hair and gives a shrug. "I was told to let it air out for a few days." The boy looks down at the remains of his limb. "Kind of sucks… it takes too long to put on. If I have to hurry and get out… it'll take a while—,"

"Why would you be hurryin'?"

Matt's brows invert for a second. "Biters," he says.

Merle shakes his head. "Ain't somethin' to worry 'bout here. There's always someone keepin' an eye out on them," he says simply and Matt gives a faint nod.

The boy watches as Merle looks to the door. "She likes her space," Matt says after a moment. Merle looks to him. "I think she likes to be with her thoughts a lot."

"She can be with her thoughts inside where she won't get in trouble."

Matt shrugs. "I don't think she wants to be in here—,"

"What did you do?" Merle growls as he rises from his chair.

Matt shakes his head. "N-nothing," he says. Merle narrows his eyes as Matt looks to the floor. "She told me what happened," he says quietly.

"Ain't none of your business, Charlie," Merle says passively as he lowers back to his seat.

"That wasn't fair, man," Matt says with a shake of his head. "I mean… I get it, she's your sister and you want her safe—but she can't just… go back to how things were." Merle scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Seriously," Matt urges. "It's like those animals at the zoo. They were all free and wild and suddenly put into a cage—Lassie can't do that—,"

"How long have you known her?" Marle asks with a cock of his head.

Matt's eyes wince. "A few months—,"

"Well, I've known her for a bit longer than that," Merle says in a condescending voice. "I think I would know what she can 'n' can't do."

"That's based off of the before—,"

"Before what?"

"Before the fall," Matt says with a hobble forward. Merle raises his brow and makes an 'O' shape with his mouth. "Things happened out there that no one would be able to come back from—,"

"These people have—,"

"Lassie's not these people." Matt shakes his head. "She's lost a lot—she won't tell you it bothers her, but it _does_. I mean, it _really_ does." Matt furrows his brow as Merle gives him a long blink. "Don't believe me; fine. Listen to her when she sleeps."

* * *

Lassie hisses as a thin branch whips her cheek.

"Sorry," Adrienne says breathily as she continues forward. "If we stay in the trees, I think we might have a better chance of staying away from them," she adds over her shoulder. Lassie gives a small nod. "If we're going to find other people, chances are they'll be camping around in these areas. Better coverage—the open areas will just get them killed." Sergeant First Class Adrienne Yorkshire stops as she no longer hears the girl's steps. She turns around and sees Lassie keeled over, her mouth hung open and eyes shut tightly. "You okay?" the woman asks as she rushes to the girl's side. "What's wrong?" she asks. Lassie tries to speak, but all that comes out are short whimpers and struggles of words. Adrienne straightens her and holds her hands above her head. "Breath, girl," the woman says calmly as her hand brushes back the girl's light hair, "just breath."

After a moment, Lassie takes a gulp of air. "I'm sorry," she says before a sniffle. "I don't know…"

"It's all right," Adrienne says. Her eyes hood over as she looks down at the girl. "It's been a long week… it's a lot to take in."

Lassie's face contorts as her eyes fall to the leafy grass. "He just died—and we left him there," she rushes out before another gulp of air as tears trail her face.

"I know," Yorkshire says as her hand stretches out to the girl's cheek. "But he was dead and we were alive—,"

"We're dying too—we're just lookin' for a better place to have that happen to us," Lassie gasps out.

"No," Adrienne says as she grabs the girl's shoulders. "We're not." The woman's dark eyes look at Lassie. "We're going to be okay. We're going to see this thing through."

Lassie keels over again and covers her face. "We just left him there," she says again as her eyes shut tightly. She shakes her head faintly. "There's no seein' this through… this is the end… this is what death looks like."

"Listen to me," Adrienne says sharply making the girl's eyes shoot up to her. "We'll be okay. We'll find other people." The woman's brow furrows deeply. "There are safe zones scattered all across the state. We can find them—,"

"I don't think we'll live that long," Lassie says with a dry laugh.

Adrienne runs a hand through her tied back hair. "As long as you listen to me, things will be okay. We'll get through this. I say give it a month and things'll get back to how they were—,"

"I doubt Atlanta will be," Lassie says.

"I'm trying to tell you things will be all right—maybe not how we remember—maybe not how we imagine—but it _will_ get better."

* * *

Lassie drags her hand along the stone walls of the buildings as she sluggishly walks through the street of Woodbury. Curfew had gone and passed; at first she wanted to go inside and then, like curfew, that feeling had gone and passed. The girl turns down between two buildings and slides down one of the walls until she hits the ground.

She touches her lips and smiles. Matt was her first kiss.

Lassie shakes her head and looks up to the stars. In a world like this, there was no time for firsts—firsts were dangerous. Lassie turns her head as she hears people talking. She hurries further into the shadow of the building and watches.

"If I could see them up close and personal, I think I could learn more from them," a man says hurriedly. "But… that would be dangerous—,"

"Do they have to be alive?" a familiar voice asks. There's a pause.

"Not necessarily," the first voice says.

"I'll have them bring some back tomorrow," the second voice says.

"But would they be okay with having a few biters ride with them?"

"They'll do as I tell them—besides, they'd be dead; nothing to worry about on their part—," it was the Governor.

"How will we get them inside without people seeing?" the second voice asks.

"Milton, you let me worry about that. Keep your mind on what's important—,"

"With all due respect, Governor, that kind of is important," the unseen Milton says nervously. Another prolonged silence. "All right… just… let me know when they're here—I only want one for now. I don't want to end up being stuck burying a bunch of rotting corpses."

"It's settled then," the Governor says and even without his face, Lassie can hear the smile being pulled on his lips.

Lassie slowly rises from the ground and makes her way to the back of the buildings. "Hey—," Lassie's blood freezes as she hears the voice. Slowly, she turns towards the source and sees the men standing at the opening.

"Who's that?" Milton asks.

"A newcomer," the Governor says. "Merle's sister—,"

"He has a sister?"

"Lassie," the Governor calls out and the girl takes three struggled steps towards them. "What are you doing out after dark?"

Lassie gives a shrug as she looks back at them.

The Governor gives Milton a nod and, suddenly, the new man leaves. The Governor takes a few steps closer to the girl and furrows his brow. "I thought I told you nobody is allowed out past curfew," he says carefully.

"Why are you?" she asks and shrinks as the Governor lets out a laugh.

"I am doin' my job," he says simply. Lassie narrows her eyes as the man smiles down at her. Something about his demeanour changes; the smile he carries is no longer charming and warm but cool and sickening. "You better start listening right _now_." The Governor watches her for a moment. "I'm not going to dish out a punishment simply because this is your first day here, Lassie. I understand how rules can be difficult to follow when they aren't your own." The girl cringes as the man grips her forearm tightly and pulls her towards him. "You _are_ gonna listen to me—,"

"What makes you think that?" Lassie challenges.

The Governor smirks and shakes his head. "Because I have power over your brother; he trusts me." Lassie furrows her brow as her lips part. "If you don't start listenin'—I'm not sayin' something bad will happen to you—but maybe Merle won't come back after a run one day… maybe he'll be found out in some field feastin' on some animal's organs." The Governor lets out a laugh as Lassie's lip curls with disgust. "All I'm saying is; if I were you and something were to happen, I wouldn't think twice about blaming myself." The smile disappears and he releases his vice grip on her arm. "Now, let's get you back to your dorm," he says with the warmth his smile carried before. His hand reaches out and scoops Lassie back onto the sidewalk as he leads her back to the building she slept in the night before.

Merle jerks his head from sleep as he hears the door open. As his eyes focus they widen with the appearance of Lassie followed by his brow furrowing with the appearance of the Governor behind.

"Where the hell have you been?" Merle barks out as he rises from the chair.

The Governor holds a hand up as Lassie attempt to explain herself. "It's already been dealt with, Merle. She just got lost lookin' for the washroom." Lassie furrows her brow at the man. "Things look a little different in the dark," he says. "Might want to go with her next time," the Governor adds before giving a wink to Lassie.

The girl lowers herself to the table set and holds her head.

"Where was she?" Merle asks.

"She was a few buildings down," the Governor says; a shred of truth escaping his teeth. "I found her sneakin' around." The man gives a warm chuckle that only leaves Lassie's skin itching. "She didn't want to be caught but she also needed to use the washroom; isn't that right, Lassie?"

"Yup," she spits.

"Thank you, Governor," Merle says with a nod. "Was startin' to think I should worry," he adds and Lassie arches a brow.

"Well, everythin's fine now. Have a good night," he says as he opens the door. "And Lassie," the Governor says as he turns back. Lassie looks to the man with her nose curled. "Don't forget to report to me in the morning," he says with a nod before waving and shutting the door.

After a moment of the door being shut, Merle turns to his sister with a cocked eyebrow. "Why didn't you pop a squat?" he asks and Lassie makes a face. Merle shakes his head. "You need to learn to control your bladder," he adds before heading towards the sofa.

Lassie's arms fold onto the table and she lowers her forehead to them. "Sorry," she says with the words muffled.

Merle waves passively and scoffs. "I told you all you do is get into shit you shouldn't be doin'."

"Merle," Lassie says in a small voice as she pops her head up. The man stops and looks at her.

It didn't seem to matter how mad or upset he was with Lassie; as soon as his eyes saw her even remotely resembling the little girl he knew, his anger seemed to melt away. "Yeah," he says carelessly as if to not show her his anger was gone.

"I've been thinkin'," Lassie says.

"That's a scary thought," Merle says before a wheezy chuckle. Lassie furrows his brow at him and he sighs. "What 'bout?"

"If you told the Governor to keep me in what you think are safe jobs, I think I should have a say in what you do—,"

"Absolutely not, li'l lady," Merle says with a shake of his head. "I've got my shit organized. I know what I'm doin' and I'm damn good at it—,"

"I not tellin' you not to do anythin'," Lassie says. She gives a short shrug. "Maybe just be a little safer," she says.

"And how would I do that?"

Lassie presses her lips together and furrows her brow. "You've been here a while… you probably know the area a lot better than most people." The girl's eyes rise to her brother's. "Maybe just do runs where you know there's a 100 percent guarantee you'll be comin' back—,"

"There's always gonna be a chance I won't come back—,"

"Then make it 95," Lassie cuts him off. "If I can't do what I want because you're afraid of losin' me—then you shouldn't be allowed to do things you know are too dangerous."

Merle narrows his eyes. "There is no compromisin' here, Lassie," he says. "I do whatever the Governor tells me to. I ain't gonna let you tell me to say no. You can dig your hole as much as you want—you ain't pullin' me down with you."

Lassie feels her bottom lip quiver slightly as the Governor's words echo back in her head. She turns her face away and gives a faint nod. "Okay," she nearly whispers.

"Listen, sister," Merle says as he approaches her. Lassie turns her face away further but Merle kneels before her feet regardless. "Ain't nothin' gonna happen to me."

"What if somethin' does?" Lassie asks attempting to keep her emotions out of the words.

"It's a… an impossibility." Lassie shakes her head again and looks down at her brother as his eyes bounce around her face. "I ain't gonna _let_ anything happen to me." Merle shakes his head. "You wanna know why?" Lassie gives a shrug and quickly wipes at her eyes. "'Cause I've still got something important to do," he says. Merle clears his throat as he feels the familiar rawness return. He hated seeing her cry. "I have to make sure you stay straight," he says making Lassie roll her eyes with a scoff.

"I'm serious," he says with a smirk. "You ain't gonna live long 'round here without me keepin' an eye on you." He shakes his head. "And Charlie sure as hell can't—he wouldn't be able to keep up." Lassie fights back the grin pulling at her lips. "Now," Merle says as he rises from the floor, "go to bed. It's been a long day and the last thing you need is to sleep in tomorrow."

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

"I already told you, Jason, everyone gets the same amount for rations," the Governor says as Lassie watches the man lower his chin. "We can't let you take more. People will notice and some might even get angry. I don't want a bunch of angry people bangin' on my door hollering about how I give special treatment to certain residents."

"I just thought since I killed the deer I could choose which part I could have—,"

"You either take what we give you or you get nothin'; simple as that," the Governor says as the man curls his upper lip before storming passed them.

Lassie shakes her head and sighs. In her eyes, Jason had the right to choose what he wanted—he did the work; without him there would be no deer to be rationed.

"You could've let him choose," Lassie says as she follows at the Governor's side. Her eyes catch the deer's body being lifted from the truck by two other men.

The Governor shakes his head. "If I let him choose what he wanted, others would see it." Lassie's eyes climb the tower of a man until they settle on his face.

"What if he decides not to hunt anymore?"

"They go off in groups. Jason is one of the best; can track an animal for miles and hit the target with ease. If he decides to stop, we'll see it." The Governor draws in a deep breath as he stands before the wall. "If he comes out dry, he will be punished—,"

"What exactly is the punishment?" she asks as her eyes squint with the sunlight.

The Governor gives her his smile. "Let's not think about the negative right now." His sky blue eyes look up to a man and woman standing with rifles on the wall. "You see them up there?" he asks and Lassie nods. "It's pretty clear what their job is. You see those people there?" He nods off to two women with their backs to them.

"Yeah," Lassie says.

"The woman on the right; Kelly," he says. "Her job is to sanitize the clinic and its tools. She does that because before the dead started risin' she was a food hygiene inspector. A far cry from cleaning medical tools, but when she got here, she was the closest thing qualified to do such a thing." The Governor looks down at Lassie. "The woman on the left is named Rose. She used to work as a receptionist. Now she lives here and helps with runs." Lassie makes a face. "Her job wasn't her passion. Runnin'; she was good at it and loved it. That worked for us." The Governor takes in a deep breath. "Don't underestimate anyone here, Lassie. They're here because we saw value in them. Jason knows he's one of the best hunters we've got. He thought he could get extra because of that—,"

"Shouldn't you've agreed then?"

"No."

Lassie furrows her brow and shakes her head. "Does he know what'll happen if he stops?"

"I'm countin' on it." The man looks down at her and smiles.

Lassie feels a shiver run up her spine. The Governor knew how to strike the fear into giants with just the power of his voice let alone his smile. "How much longer until Matt joins up with Martinez and Merle?" she asks. The girl knew it would be awhile before Matt could go off, but she wanted the subject to change—to get rid of the man's terrible smile.

"It's already in the works," the Governor says as they walk through the streets. "Tomorrow he'll be off with Martinez to do a quick run." The man stretches his face. "It's nothing dangerous. He might get caught up with a biter or two—but nothing Martinez can't help him with." The Governor furrows his brow. "Didn't he tell you at lunch?"

"No," Lassie says through the side of her mouth as she looks to the sidewalk. "He hasn't really spoken to me today."

The Governor nods. "Well," he says, "maybe it's for the best." Lassie furrows her brow. "You're young; you don't need to be gettin' tied up in kisses and feelings of love—,"

"Feelin's of love?" Lassie shakes her head rapidly. "When did I say anythin' like that?" The Governor watches her for a moment. "He's my friend—,"

"You don't have to say it, Lassie," he says with a nod. "I can see it—saw it the moment Crowley smashed his rifle into the kid's face. I'm surprised Merle hasn't taken notice." The Governor takes a deep breath. "You're lucky he hasn't because he'd want me to have you guys separated completely—,"

"It ain't like we're doin' things we shouldn't," Lassie says as she draws her chin back. "It was just a kiss." She shrugs. "He's just a guy—,"

The Governor lets out a laugh. "Merle's just a guy. He knows how _just-a-guys_ work. You're just a little sweet girl who's too innocent to understand—,"

"Matt's not like that," Lassie says with furrowed eyebrows.

"If I had a nickel for every girl who said that about me… I'm pretty sure the streets would be shinin' right now."

Lassie rolls her eyes. "What; you want me to stop bein' friends with Matt? What threat are you gonna dish out now?"

The Governor arches an eyebrow down at her. "Threats are empty, Lassie," he says as his eyes look down the street.

"Didn't sound like it last night—as a matter of fact, it sounded very _real_," she says through gritted teeth

"If I was going to do anything, Lassie," the man says with his voice low and he bends his face down to her, "it wouldn't be killin' your brother. I've already said he's a valuable asset." The man's eyes look around to make sure there are no ears listening to their conversation. "I'd be more worried about you than anyone else because the fact of the matter is; you're replaceable. Merle might be upset if you end up gone, but he will get over it. Everyone gets over it because that's what it takes to survive." Lassie clenches her jaw. "If you want a real threat, I'll give it to you—but you better understand that it _is_ true and will—if prompted—become a reality. Do you understand, Lassie?"

The girl gives a jagged nod as her throat grows raw.

"Now, you can either try to make this work or not; it doesn't matter because you're irrelevant. You're simply a silver linin' for a middle aged redneck to look at," the Governor says through a thin smirk. He straightens and shakes his head softly. "And nothin' could make that redneck happier than to have his own dear sister buddy-buddy with the man who dishes out his orders."

"So, you're usin' me," Lassie says as the breeze catches her sweater.

"In a sense of the word," the Governor says with a single nod.

"I could tell him everything—,"

"Nothin's stoppin' you." The man lets out a sigh and watches the clouds above. "Except the fact that he wouldn't believe you—,"

"I'm his sister. He _would_; blood's thicker than water—,"

"Funny," the Governor says with a nod. "Did you know that the quote you just used wasn't intended in that meaning—actually the very opposite." He shrugs as Lassie narrows her eyes at him. "Some believe the referral of water is water from the womb; blood being from a covenant. Therefore the meaning is interpreted to friends are more important than family." The Governor presses his lips together before smirking. "Now, I'm not sayin' Merle and I have some kind of blood oath, but we have drawn quite a bit of it on the soil from biters."

"You think he'd choose you?" Lassie asks as she cocks her head.

The Governor lets out a dry laugh before looking back down at her. "Am I supposed to believe he wouldn't?" The man's cheeks pinch up. "Lassie, your brother barely knows you anymore. People are afraid of things they don't know. Why go with the devil you don't know when the devil you do has a place you can rest your head at night?"

Lassie chews her bottom lips as her eyes watch the brick on a building. She wasn't going to cry—the Governor could hurt her as much as he wanted, but she would not grant him permission to see her tears.

"We can either be great friends, Lassie, or I can be your worst nightmare. I would pick carefully," the Governor says before leaving her side and heading back down the road. "We have to go make a pick up," he calls as his hand waves out to Lassie. "Best keep on you toes, kid," he adds as he reaches for a truck door's handle. The Governor grunts slightly as he pulls himself in to the driver's seat. He closes the door and looks out the already lowered window. "We leave through the gate and drive for about an hour headed north. That's where Merle and Martinez are today." Lassie furrows her brow as she climbs into the blue truck. "If you're worried about missin' meal time, you should probably stay here. We won't be back until after dark."

Lassie's jaw clenches as she looks out the windshield. He was making her choose; allies or enemies. She reaches over and closes her door before buckling her seatbelt. If this was the only way she could be with her brother then so be it.

* * *

Daryl sits in his truck, his leg bounces up and down impatiently as he watches the children leave the school. No one would ask questions as to why he was there; more times than not he was the one to drive Lassie home. As a group of girls pass by laughing, his eyes meet with hers. Quickly, he hits his horn three times; twice in short bursts and the third long and attention grabbing. Lassie makes a face at him as she directs herself to his truck.

"What're you goin' here?" she asks as she tosses her bag in the middle and puts her seatbelt on.

"Makin' sure you don't go places you shouldn't," Daryl says through the side of his mouth.

Lassie gives him a long blink. "I told you it wouldn't happen again," she says as her eyes look out the window to watch the other students meander through the parking lot.

"You need to stop trustin' everyone you meet, Lass." Daryl watches her for a moment as she purses her lips and lowers her brow. For a moment, he sees her as the little girl who once led him around the house by his finger. "Stop bein' so quick to say, "Yeah,"… maybe think 'bout what might happen." He sighs and shakes his head. He knew she had already heard enough from him last night, but for his own sake he needed to repeat it.

Daryl lets out a sigh and shakes his head. "Got somethin' for you," he says as he reaches behind the seat and takes a plastic bag out. As he drops the bag onto of Lassie's backpack, her cheeks pinch up with confusion. "There's a toothbrush, a couple snacks, 'n' whatever you had at the trailer," he says.

Lassie opens the bag carefully. Was this his way of telling her he didn't want her around anymore?

"I gave you a shirt," he adds. "There's a sweater too."

"What's this for?" she asks as her eyes rise to back to him.

Daryl reaches into his pocket. "There's a thousand dollars here, Lass," he says as he presses it into her palm. "You take it and you leave. You get as far away as possible and you don't come back—not until _they_ have no say in what you do anymore."

"I don't understand," she says; her voice sounds like a candle stick hitting a cave's floor.

Daryl looks away. "I'm not takin' you home." He shifts in his seat as more children walk by. "I'm takin' you to the bus station. I'll get you a ticket to wherever you wanna go." There's a pause as he waits for Lassie's reaction. "I know what dad's been doin' to you," he finally says. Lassie's face reddens as her chin falls to her chest. "He hit me too." Daryl shakes his head as his eyes look forward. "I remember wishin' someone would… would just get me out of there—give me some money and tell me to never come back." He shakes his head with a half smirk. "I didn't have anyone, Lass. You got me. I'll always have your back, kid."

"What if I don't wanna go?" Lassie rushes out as her eyes redden.

Daryl furrows his brow. "I told you I'm not takin' you home. You can get out of m' truck and catch your school bus if this ain't what you want. Nobody's stoppin' you."

Lassie sits for a moment with her eyes glued to the floor mats. "What 'bout mamma?"

"She doesn't know."

"And Merle?"

Daryl shakes his head. "Nobody knows. When they ask, I won't be able to tell them where you are—,"

"Why—,"

"Because I ain't gonna know," he says as Lassie shrinks into the seat. "I'll tell 'em you ran away."

Lassie shakes her head. Her heart races at the idea of being along and with no one to fall back on. The very thought terrified her to the bone. She takes a deep breath as her throat swells with her fight to keep calm. "When—," she swallows back a cry, "—when did you find out?" she asks as her eyes avoid Daryl's like the plague.

"Last night," he says quietly. He rushes a hand through his short hair and sighs. "Saw them on your back while you were in the shower."

Lassie chews her bottom lip for a second before saying, "What if it wasn't daddy?"

"Lassie, I know who did 'em," he says with a trace of annoyance in his voice. "He did the same to me and Merle." Daryl takes a long breath. "I-I know it's not perfect—I know you'll be alone…" His eyes wince. Was this really the best option? "I can wire you money whenever you need it," he says. "Just… stay away. Don't call them, don't think about 'em—hell, pretend they don't even exist. What'd they ever do for you?" Daryl reaches into the breast pocket of his cut off sleeve shirt and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. "You don't need them—dad and Kathy…" He places a cigarette between his lips. "You don't need anyone," he adds before lighting the smoke.

Lassie looks out the windshield as she tries to fight back her tears. "But I need you," she says in the most soundless and sombre whisper. A hand quickly wipes her tear before she thinks Daryl has taken notice. "I need Merle," she adds with a bit of a whine. Lassie turns away with her head lowered.

"We're not worth you bein' hurt," Daryl says through the side of his mouth as he attempt to hide the sadness in his voice. His hands want to reach out and comfort her—but his mind won't let him. He was her brother. He needed to stay strong for her. He needed to be cool, stern and unrelenting—just how Merle was for him. Daryl takes a puff of his cigarette and ashes out his window. "Now, are you goin' or am I wastin' gas?" The moment the words hit the air, Daryl feels the burn they send Lassie.

Lassie looks down at the plastic bag and reaches for her backpack instead. Just as Daryl is about to unleash his mind, Lassie unzips her schoolbag and places the plastic bag into it. "Atlanta's a good place—," her dark eyes look to him, "—right?"

Daryl takes another drag of his cigarette; the blue-grey smoke exits his mouth and nose as he gives her a slow—almost forced—nod.

"When do we go?"

"It's only you who's goin'," Daryl says and Lassie gives a short nod as a frown surfaces on her face. "You're leavin' now," he adds and Lassie fights back another cry. "Just keep your head out o' trouble and you should be fine." Lassie nods and as they sit in silence, Daryl finally pulls out of the parking lot.

It wasn't going to be an easy thing. Telling Merle that their baby sister was gone would be even harder, though. Daryl rubs his face and watches the road as they head through the town. Lassie deserved better—but he couldn't provide that and neither could Merle; that was the worst part of all this. Knowing she needed something that he couldn't give her.

As they pull up to the transit station, Daryl keeps his eyes ahead. He would not be going in; the drive was hard enough let alone walking his sister off. He didn't even want to say goodbye—and he wouldn't have had she not said it first.

With Lassie's big dark bloodshot eyes, she leaned onto him and hugged him. "Bye, Daryl," she whispers before pulling away.

Daryl clears his throat and nods as she shuts the truck's door. He, himself, was fighting back tears—but he didn't want her to know that. He didn't want her to think he was weak—that he wasn't every bit as good of a man Merle was. Daryl looks out his window as Lassie approaches the station.

"As soon as you get a place, you write me a letter," he calls. "No phone calls, Lass. Just send the letter." It took all his strength to keep his emotions at bay.

Lassie watches him for a moment as her hand wipes at her eyes. Before she turns back to the station, she nods. Daryl didn't have the heart to watch her leave. He couldn't; that was his baby sister—the littlest Dixon—his Lass.

On the drive home, Daryl pulls over to the shoulder of the highway and breaks down. With his snot and tears, he even fights it then. Daryl's hands hit the steering wheel as if to fight himself-his legs kick above the break and gas pedal—but his efforts are futile. He was a man—he wasn't supposed to be like this. Merle wouldn't have. Merle was stronger than him… he was the big brother Daryl felt he should have been.

* * *

Lassie's eyes shoot open as the truck bounces up and down wildly from a pothole. She grabs the handle above her window and holds tight as the Governor continues to drive seemingly unimpressed by the road. As her eyes look out to the horizon, she feels her chest constrict. The sun was gone. The girl takes a deep breath.

"What're we pickin' up out here?" she finally asks.

The Governor's eyes remain on the road. "Cadavers," he says through the side of his mouth.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

As they pull into a field, Lassie sees three figures; two circling one that stands with its arms stretched out. When the truck finally stops, Lassie sees Merle and Martinez chuckling and smiling as the walker lunges towards Merle.

Without a second wasted, the girl opens the still moving truck's door and races to her brother only to have Martinez grab her around the waist. "Whoa," he says as she fights to release herself.

"Merle!" she calls out.

"Calm down," Martinez says. "It's a game," he adds with a bit of a laugh. Lassie struggles for a moment longer until she sees the composure on her brother's face.

Merle smirks as the walker lunges again only to have Merle quickly duck to the left. He lets out an entertained laugh as the biter turns towards him and releases a growl. Lassie furrows her brow as Merle continues. He begins backing away as the walker follows. Suddenly, Merle steps into a hole in the ground and grunts as the walker falls on top of him. Lassie attempts to race to his aid, but Martinez braces her back.

Merle lets out another laugh as the biter's mouth hangs open trying to get a bite. "Man, he's a lively one—quicker than yesterday's catch," he adds before he pushes the walker off of him with a grunt. Lassie's eyebrows invert as she watches her brother taunt the biter further. His mind is on games while hers is taken back into survival mode. She sees danger where he sees a chance for entertainment.

"Game over," the Governor booms softly with his thunder as he approaches. Merle nods and looks back to the walker only to jab his arm's blade extension into the walker's forehead.

"Should've given her a warning, Governor," Martinez says with a laugh as Lassie stares at the three men with her heart pounding. "She thought Merle was done for—,"

"Takes more than just a little biter to take me out," Merle says with a wink to his sister as his chest rises and falls from the exertion.

"What kind of game is that?" Lassie barks with outrage as she frees herself from Martinez.

"Something to keep the muscles from going weak on us," Martinez says with a chuckle as Merle removes his blade from the biter's skull.

Lassie shakes her head. "These are people!" she growls with outrage.

"_Were_; they _were_ people," the Governor corrects.

"Now they're just a bag o' bones 'n' mushy innards," Merle says before he waves his blade making the blood sprits onto the grass.

Lassie takes a step back and covers her mouth and nose as the stench of the long rotting body wafts through the air. She shakes her head again.

"Where you want him, Governor?" Merle asks as he turns to the tall man.

"Back of the truck," he says with a nod as Martinez grabs the walker's arms.

Lassie furrows her brow as she watches Merle lift the legs and help carry the walker towards the truck. Merle lets out a whoop as one of the arms Martinez holds rips off. Lassie feels her lunch rising. "Why'd you bring me here?" she asks as she glares up at the man.

"Thought it might be a chance for you to see what your brother does," the Governor says.

Lassie's face screws up as she looks at him. "This is sick," she spits. "What're you gonna do with it?"

"Nothing," the Governor says calmly as the girl sucks her teeth. He watches as the girl paces for a moment. "We need to do research, Lassie."

"No—you don't. They're dead—they were sick and they died. There's nothin' more you need to know," Lassie says through gritted teeth. She feels her stomach churn with the drop of the walker's legs in the truck's bed. "That guy there," she says with a nudge of her head, "he's already suffered enough." The girl shakes her head. "At least give him some peace in death," she nearly whispers as she stops before the Governor.

"And how do you suppose we learn more about them?"

Lassie shakes her head again as she hears Merle and Martinez jump out of the truck. "I already said there's nothing more to know," she growls.

Martinez straightens from the body and wipes his hands on the thighs of his jeans. He pats Merle's back and when the man turns to him, he points towards the Governor and Lassie.

"The hell's goin' on over there?" Merle asks and Martinez gives a shrug. Merle carefully heads to the tailgate of the truck and jumps down from the bed. After a second, he furrows his brow at the scene unfolding out in the field.

"Well, I think there is," the Governor says with a careless expression.

Lassie's cheeks pinch up. "Let him go," she breaths out.

"No."

"I said let him go!" she hollers. Suddenly, she feels something smack into her cheek. The force is enough to twist her neck and make her bite her own cheek. For a moment, she stands in shock as the silence of evening swallows her whole.

"Don't you touch my sister again!" A voice hollers. Lassie releases a breath as she holds her reddening cheek. Suddenly, Merle comes racing in view and Lassie shakes her head.

"Merle—don't!" Just as Merle reaches them, Lassie pins herself between him and the Governor. She holds his shoulders as he tries to push past her. "Merle, it's okay," she says in an unusually calm voice.

"Don't you _ever_ touch my sister again—Governor or not, you ain't got that right!" he hollers over Lassie's head as she struggles to hold him back. Martinez quickly rushes behind Merle and takes his arms. "I'll rip your fuckin' head off!" Merle hollers as the veins in his neck bulge.

"Merle, calm down," Martinez says as he struggles to keep the man seized.

"I'll fuckin' kill you, man!" Merle growls as Lassie pushes him back.

Martinez manages to take Merle back a half step. "It was just a love tap—it could've been worse—,"

Merle frees his arms from Martinez and pushes Lassie out of his way. He glares at the Governor with his face contorting in anger. His jaw clenches as a smug Southern smile pulls at the Governor's lips. Martinez grabs Merle again only to receive a fist just below his ribs. Merle glares down at Martinez as he lets out a guttural groan.

The man turns back to the Governor for a moment. Merle's eyes bounce around the giant's face until they fall and soften on Lassie. His sister keeps her eyes on the ground as she holds herself. Was she afraid of him? Merle curls his nose up at the thought before storming back to the truck.

Lassie lifts her eyes and watches; her dark orbs burn as her throat grows sore. What was going to happen to Merle? She takes a step towards the truck only to halt in her steps to the thunderous voice.

"Lassie," the Governor says. The Governor's sapphire eyes study her as she turns back to him; a thin smirk of amusement pulls at his lips. He gestures his head for her to stand at his side. Hesitation makes her movements slow; however, Lassie listens to the silent demand.

"He knows he overstepped," the Governor says calmly. After a moment, the man shakes his head. "He handled the situation quite well," the Governor admits with the smirk falling from his face. "Martinez," he says as he looks down at the man still keeled over. "Go check in with him. Make sure he doesn't do anythin' stupid." Lassie feels her chest constrict with the Governor looking down at her. He gives his warm smile to her as Martinez heads out to the truck. "I see where the loyalty stands," he says and Lassie's heart drops.

Lassie's eyes shoot to the truck as muffled hollers sound when Martinez approaches. "What's gonna happen to him?" she asks.

The Governor stares at the two men as Merle emerges from the truck. "It's his first offence," he says. Lassie swallows back a cry. "His rations will be lowered for a week. I'll have him on dish pit for two and then he'll be back to work as usual."

Lassie shifts her feet. "What 'bout me?"

The Governor's brow furrows for half a second and he shrugs. "What about you?" he asks. The Governor looks down at her and smiles. "You were standin' up for what you believed in—," he shakes his head, "—Merle was sticking his nose where it didn't belong."

Lassie's looks to the dirt below and shakes her head. "I yelled at you—,"

"We all need to blow off a bit of steam every once in awhile," he says as he looks back out to the truck. "You're also new," he adds. "Merle's been here long enough to know when to back down."

The girl pulls her sweater around herself like a blanket as she looks out to the blackened horizon. It was such an odd thing; half the sky still had the beauty of sunset yet out east the land sat engulfed in evening—as if half the heavens dulled and wilted while the other still held dearly onto its precious life.

"You can go see him now," the Governor says making Lassie startle. "He needed to see that you have a new master," he adds.

"I ain't a dog," Lassie spits.

The Governor presses his lips together and stretches his face. "I never said you were."

Lassie takes a few steps before stopping. "Aren't you comin'?" she asks as she turns back to the man.

The Governor shakes his head. "It'd be best to keep some distance; let him cool off before he does somethin' he might regret."

Lassie's lips part before she nods. With legs fighting to run, Lassie walks towards the truck where Merle now leans on the driver's door. As she comes around, Merle grabs her shoulders and holds her still.

"That son o' a bitch," he growls out as he examines her cheek. The wrist of his bladed arm sits at the side of Lassie's jaw as the other lightly touches a small cut above her cheekbone. She hisses at the sensation and Merle shakes his head. "Nobody fucks with my family—."

"Merle," Lassie says as his eyes hit hers. "Calm down," she says. Merle furrows his brow and his eyes nearly glaze over with unfamiliarity. "It's like Caesar said; it was just a love tap." Lassie shakes her head as she takes a step back.

"Could've been worse," Martinez reminds them as he approaches them.

Merle's nostrils flare with his lips thinning into a flat line. "He hurt you—,"

"And there ain't nothin' you can do about it now," Lassie says quietly with hooded eyes. "I'm fine." She furrows her brow. "I'd be more worried about you," she says with a tremble and Merle straightens. "You need to listen to him—keep on his good side because you're quickly pullin' yourself into a deep dark hole o' trouble."

"I ain't gonna let him get away with this—,"

"You can and you will because you _have_ to," Lassie says sternly. Merle shakes his head.

Martinez shrugs as his eyes connect with Merle's. "She's right," he says. "We're not the ones making the rules here. The Governor wants us to play the game as long as we listen to him." Martinez crosses his arms. "It ain't our castle we're living in."

Merle runs his hand through his hair and takes a deep breath. He shakes his head and lets out a chuckle only to have Lassie look to him with confusion. "When'd you get to be smart?" he asks with a smile. "Look at this; my baby sister's tellin' me what to do," he says to Martinez. Merle lets out a sigh and presses his lips together. "So, I listen to him 'n' do as he says and then what?" he challenges.

Lassie clenches her jaw. "We get out."

"And how do we do this?" Merle asks before chuckling. "He ain't just gonna let me walk out—,"

"Merle's right," Martinez says with a nod. "He's got one of the highest ranks with the Governor." He turns to Merle. "He's not just going to let you head out and never come back."

"Just keep there," Lassie says as she looks to her brother. "Make him believe there's no bad blood between you guys. I'll figure somethin' out," Lassie says. She takes a deep breath. "I've got a lot of free time between what he gives me to do. As soon as I find a way, I'll let you know."

"And then what?" Martinez asks.

"We run away and never look back."

Merle rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "She's a professional at that," he murmurs. Lassie takes the cold hit. "If this works—and I'm not sayin' it will—are you prepared to leave Charlie behind?" he asks.

Lassie furrows her brow. "Why would we leave him—,"

"He's just gonna slow us down," Merle says and just as Lassie opens her mouth to defend the boy, Martinez speaks.

"He's better off at Woodbury. Out there; he's gonna end up dead. Why the Governor put him up to runs is beyond me." Caesar shakes his head as his eyes hood over. "That kid isn't done growing which means he's gonna need another fake leg at some point." Lassie screws her face up and Martinez looks to Merle and then back at her. "We're gonna be on the run when we leave here. We won't be able to slow down for anything because once the Governor finds out two of his best guys are gone plus his little minion, he gonna send people out looking."

Merle takes a breath and lowers himself down to his sister's level. "I know he's your friend… and this ain't about betraying someone, but you have to think about what's best for you and what's best for him, li'l lady." The man straightens. "The answer to both those questions is the one you don't wanna say." Merle watches her for a moment. "Are you prepared to leave him?"

Lassie can feel her heart shredding. She knew he was right; Merle was always right.

The girl lowers her eyes and gives a faint nod. "Yeah," she nearly whispers.

* * *

**How do you think this is going to pan out?**

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

"You know—," Martinez grunts as he pulls at the car's tire, "—I liked you the moment you aimed that gun at me—," he grunts once more as the tire finally pops off. Martinez lets out a bit of a triumphant chuckle.

Lassie furrows her brow as the man rolls the tire out before heading to the jack. "Why's that?" she asks as she stands. The Governor had her keep an eye on Martinez as the man did maintenance—safety precaution, was what the Governor called it.

"Because you stood your ground," he says as he slips the jack out from under the car. "Not a lot of people do that. They look into a gun's barrel and their first response it to shake in their boots and hold up their hands."

"Not me—,"

"Not you," Martinez repeats with a smile and shake of his head. "At first I thought you were stupid—you know, some kid thinking their tough shit… and then you turn out to be Dixon's sister?" The man makes a face and draws his chin back. "It all made sense," he says as he pushes the tire over to another car. He places the jack under and begins cranking it.

"We're not that much alike," Lassie says mundanely as she looks to the wall.

"I don't know, kid. You're both pretty stubborn and it's kind of hard to tell when you guys are joking—,"

"I don't joke," Lassie says as she looks back at Martinez.

The man shrugs. "It's not a bad thing to be like Merle… you're just… kind of a less intense version of him," he says with his face stretching. Lassie's brow rises as her mouth purses for a half second. "You found a way out yet, Houdini?"

"Who?" Lassie furrows her brow.

"You know… the escape artist?" Lassie shakes her head. Martinez scoffs. "How do you not know his name?" he asks as he stops what he's doing. Lassie stares down at him as he shakes his head. "Harry Houdini; he could get out of anything—handcuffs, chains, coffins, straightjackets—_anything_." Lassie lowers herself to the hood of a car as Martinez removes the new car's tire. "I guess it doesn't matter now," he says to himself.

"Their shift change is at about nine o'clock. When they switch, most of them talk for a minute." Lassie's eyes climb the wall. "If I can make a distraction of some kind… get their attention away from the wall, I think we could make a break for it," she says. Lassie readjusts herself on the car's hood as she brings her legs up and crosses them like a kindergartner at circle time. She wipes at her nose and gives a shrug. "There's a week spot where they have one of the cars placed. There's enough room to wedge between it, but pryin' the sheet metal away might make it a tight squeeze for you 'n' Merle." The girl's eyes look to Martinez as he continues with the car's tire.

"What if you go first?" Lassie winces her eyes at Martinez' words. He shrugs slightly. "Take off and run like the wind," he says. "While they look for you, Merle and me will bail," he adds.

"And what happens when I get caught?" Lassie asks in a strangled whisper. Her eyes wander the car graveyard making sure they are still safe to plot their escape. "Do you guys come back 'n' get me or am I on my own?"

"You won't get caught," Martinez answers; the nod he gives only makes Lassie more doubtful.

"We leave together," Lassie says with a shake of her head.

"It could work though," Martinez says as he turns his head over his shoulder. "We could have a meeting place and after the first person makes it there, they wait until sunrise. If nobody shows up, nobody shows up." His dark eyes look back to the tire as he uses the cross wrench to twist the lug nuts free. "After sunrise, everyone's on their own."

Lassie rises from the car's hood and knits her eyebrows as her eyelids shut in thought. She shakes her head. "I'll think 'bout it." She takes a step away. "The Governor will be wonderin' what's taking me so long—,"

"Yeah, you were only supposed to chaperone me until I got the tire off," Martinez says through the side of his mouth. "Safety precaution?" he says before buzzing his lips. "Ain't no safety here—he just wants to let me know he's still the boss."

"I'm sorry," Lassie says with her eyes falling.

"Not your fault," Martinez says with a smirk. "Better your company anyway." He turns his head and looks at Lassie. "You're prettier to look at than him." The girl feels her cheeks burn into a blush and Martinez lets out a chuckle. "You need to stop that—,"

"Stop what?" Lassie asks.

"Saying sorry," he says. Martinez busts free a new lug nut and finally begins pulling at the tire for freedom. "You live in an unapologetic world, Lassie. Why say sorry for things that one; are not your fault and two; you would have done again if it meant you were safe?" Martinez shakes his head. "Sometimes a _sorry_ doesn't work. Sometimes you're going to have to be remorseless… callous and defiant, even." He narrows his eyes as he turns back to her. "Kindness ain't gonna get you far today."

Lassie nods her head absentmindedly.

"You should go, kid. Don't keep the Governor waiting."

* * *

"Took you long enough," the Governor says as he turns towards the girl entering the room. Lassie lowers her chin as his eyes settle on her. "Did Martinez have trouble with the tire?"

"It wouldn't give," she lies. "Had to have me help him," she adds. The Governor lets out a sigh as he heads towards his desk. Lassie slowly makes her way further into the room. "How's Merle doin'?" She hadn't seen him for nearly three days—Martinez was placed in her and Matt's dorm in Merle's stead.

"Good," the Governor says. Lassie was still unsure if the punishment was meant for her brother or for herself. "He's been a nice little dish jockey for Shannon." The Governor sits at the chair and lets out a long breath. "You see, Lassie, when people show resistance—when someone decides to step above their class, you have to put them back down; show them where they belong." Lassie fixes her eyes on the grey carpet of the room. "You need to be able to let them see who has the upper hand."

Lassie rolls her sweater's sleeve up her arms as she stands with her eyes still on the carpet. "So you use me to get to Merle," she says carelessly. "We've already been through this," she adds as her eyes touch the Governor for a split second before falling back down.

"What will it take for you to like me?" Lassie is taken aback. "What would it cost me to have you on my side?" he reiterates. The man narrows his eyes. "And when did you decide that you didn't want to _be_ on my side?"

Lassie arches an eyebrow. "I never said I wasn't on your side—,"

"I can see it," he says as he watches her. "Somethin' in the way you stand… the way you look at me. You don't want to be here—,"

"Yes, I do," she blurts out.

"Prove it."

"How?" Lassie shrugs.

The Governor smirks. "What's goin' on with Merle and Martinez?"

Lassie makes a face. "How would I know—,"

"You've been spendin' an awful lot of time with Caesar," he says with a dull nod. Lassie swallows hard. "Maybe he said something to you," the Governor adds with a shrug.

Lassie looks to the books along the wall and fights back every urge telling her to run. "Morals low," she says as she looks back to the man. "Merle's mad which makes Martinez mad. They're friends; if you treat one badly, the other ain't gonna like it." She narrows her eyes. "Martinez just wanted to talk to someone who knew Merle… wanted to know why my brother does some of the things he does." Lassie shrugs as a grin pulls at her lips. "Who better to explain that than another Dixon?" She stretches her face for a moment. "You ain't got nothin' to worry about, Governor; Martinez is still with you which means Merle's still with you." She shakes her head. "But if I were you, I wouldn't be throwin' out punishments all willy-nilly thinkin' it won't affect your two best men on the field."

The Governor furrows his brow. "Was that a warning?"

Lassie raises her eyebrows and shrugs. "It's whatever you want it to be." The girl fights to bring her feet forward to cover the ground between her and the Governor. "You know Merle," she states with a nod. "You probably know how easy it is for him to get upset—you know havin' had him be here for so long; you probably saw it more than once or twice." The girl leans on the desk with her hands supporting her. "And," she says with raised eyebrows before furrowing them deeply in a patronizing way, "we both know how much he _loves_ his sister." The Governor watches her carefully. "All it would take is a simply tear and a few words and that man would ruin you," she says through finely enunciated words.

The Governor attempts a grin as his eyes sift through the room. He shakes his head and lets out a chuckle—nearly nervous to Lassie's surprise. "I underestimated you, Lassie," he says and the girl straightens with a smile. "However," he says and Lassie's smile disappears, "you made one mistake." Lassie furrows her brow as she takes a step back. "You failed to protect your men," the Governor says as the doors open behind her.

"I said I don't know anything!" Lassie spins on her heels to see Crowley bring in a battered Martinez.

"Wh-What's goin' on?" Lassie asks breathlessly.

"Lassie doesn't know nothin'," Martinez says with a shake of his head and eyes wide like saucers. Blood trails from his nose as his left eye socket sits swollen and purple. "She don't know nothin'," he repeats.

The Governor rises from his chair and shakes his head. "You disappoint me," he says to Lassie with the lowering of his chin. The Governor turns to the Martinez. "And you; using a kid?" He shakes his head. "Pathetic," he spits. Martinez struggles as the Governor approaches Lassie. "Calm him down before he hurts himself," the Governor barks over his shoulder with annoyance. A grunt sounds as Crowley knees the man in the back. Martinez drops to his knees.

"She doesn't know anything," he says again.

The Governor smirks. "From what she's told me, she seems to know quite a bit." Lassie's blood runs like ice in her veins. The Governor shakes his head and sighs. "We could've been great allies," he says. The man studies her for a moment before leaning into her ear. "You feel that? That... cold relentless burn... makes it hard to breath and forces your eyes to tear and throat to close." He smiles as he pulls away. "That's fear," he says with his eyebrows rising as if he were impressed by himself. "You don't know what's goin' happen; is Martinez gonna die? Will the Governor do to you what Crowley did to Caesar?" He shakes his head and raises his hands with a fake amusement. "We just don't know," he says.

"People will ask questions—,"

"And people can be silenced," the Governor booms down at her. He turns to Crowley and takes a deep breath. "I wanna know if Merle knew of any of this." He arches a brow as he looks back to Lassie. "You better pray he didn't." He curls his nose up at her. "This li'l game you're playin' better stop. If I find out that it's still goin' on, you're gonna regret ever stepping foot into Woodbury. Do you understand?"

"Regret doesn't even begin to describe what I feel," Lassie spits.

The Governor's eyebrows knit. "Don't lie," he says. "If you hadn't have come, you wouldn't have found that brother of yours." He shakes his head.

"What if Merle knows?" Crowley asks as Martinez struggles to stand from the floor. "Do we kill him?"

"No," the Governor nearly whispers. His eyes bounce from Crowley to Lassie. "We give him a fate worse than death."

* * *

**What do you think will happen?**

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

Over the weeks, Martinez' bruises faded just as his and Lassie's hope of leaving left. The first week after Merle's questioning, the Governor had Lassie dig holes out in a field far from Woodbury—graves for the dead the groups brought back to be examined. With each drive down with the shovel, Lassie imagined the Governor's head below with that terrible smile he carried. It was like a perversion; her heart would pound fast and powerful while her eyes saw nothing but the man's face bloodied and sliced. That same week, Martinez' gun was taken away. He was no longer allowed to leave Woodbury—even under the surveillance of the Governor's trusted; which seemed to be fewer and fewer with each passing day.

By the second week, the Governor deemed Merle to know nothing and, therefore, be no threat—the man's past of lying to cops and junkies played a part in how he passed the Governor's test. However, no lie he told could prevent his blade from being removed. When Lassie saw him for the first time without the extension, it was as if her brother was no longer himself—it was like a seeing a Great White Shark with filed down nubs as teeth.

On the third week, Martinez and Merle's prohibition of arms was over; their weapons returned but only under one circumstance: they were to only possess them when leaving and disarm the moment they stepped before the wall's doors.

Lassie, on the other hand, did not receive this welcome back. Instead, she was under constant care. More times than often it was by the Governor himself—but in the rare case he couldn't make it; a new babysitter was brought forth—a woman by the name of Haley. Day in and day out, Lassie would leave with Haley or the Governor out to the fields to dig holes only to return to a dorm where she was nearly quarantined from Merle and Martinez—and for precaution, as the Governor said it, from Matt.

"It's not so bad," Haley said as she pulled the tie from her hair. "It's kind of like a slumber party, you know." The woman may have been four years older than Lassie. The idea of not only working with the woman but bunking with her only made Lassie despise the Governor more so.

By the forth week, Lassie's hatred and urge to get out had been replaced with hopelessness. The only time she was accompanied was when she left to dig holes—but even when she was in Woodbury, she could feel the Governor's many eyes watching her.

As Lassie passes by the wall, Haley waves to her. In the time she had spent with the brunette, Lassie had determined the girl was overconfident and lacked proper experience to wield the compound bow Haley was far too proud of.

Lassie gives a faint wave back. She had learned to keep things brief between the residences of Woodbury. Anything she did seemed to come back to her—talking with Matt when she saw him, staring at the wall for a moment too long, watching Merle and Martinez leave Woodbury for their runs—it always got back to the Governor and he was never afraid to address her about it.

Lassie takes a deep breath and stares at the street as she heads down it. Her life had been reduced to two blocks surrounded by piles of aluminum and steel… it was a prison.

"Hey—," Lassie's head shoot up to see the Governor before her. She keeps her mouth shut and nods. "We've got another drop off to make," he drawls out. "The shovels are already in the truck, I'm just waiting for you," he says. Lassie nods and slowly heads off to the truck that seemed to take up the space of her life between diggings. As she climbs into the truck, the Governor gives the signal and the gates open. Just as he gets in a starts the ignition, he gives a smirk.

When they reach the open road, the Governor turns his head towards her as his eyes stare at the highway. "There's been a few spotted out in the field," he says and Lassie turns to him. "Martinez said there were four spotted just a half mile north the day before and yesterday two of them ended up fallin' into one of the graves you dug."

Lassie's eyes lazily look out her window. What did it matter if there were walkers? She takes a deep breath and pushes her hair out of her eyes. Suddenly, something drops onto the dashboard making Lassie's eyes dart to the source. A Beretta 92SB's nickel finish shines in the late day's sunlight.

"Thought it'd be best to have a little caution on this trip," he adds.

Lassie looks back out her window. "Don't you always have a gun?" she asks.

The Governor takes a deep breath. "The last couple trips I've been a little careless," he says. "I just want you to know that you're change in behaviour has not gone unnoticed," he adds. "I don't want you to think that I'm bein' a bully by havin' you dig. You do a good job with it—never complain." The man shrugs. "I thought it would do you some good to see that even though you're still in the doghouse, I don't want you dead."

"_Yet_," Lassie says under her breath.

The Governor shakes his head. "Unless you're sparking a new plan—which I know you aren't—that time will never come." He lets out a chuckle. "I'm not against you, Lassie," he says. "I'm trying to make this work—_really_ trying. I see the effort on your part but I feel like it's forced—,"

"Maybe 'cause it is," Lassie spits.

The Governor narrows his eyes. "If you don't have somethin' nice to say; don't say anything at all." He takes a breath.

Lassie rubs her face and shakes her head. "I'm sorry," she says. Suddenly, she shakes her head at the remembrance of Martinez' words. "No, I'm not. It _is_ forced. Every minute I spend with you feels like time is crawlin'. I came here 'cause all I wanted in this world was to be safe and happy and with Merle. You took that away from me," she says. Her eyes narrow as her nose crinkles. "Sure, I'll admit it—most of it was because I fucked up—but it wasn't all on me." Lassie's dark eyes glare at the man as he continues driving. "You threatened me—told me it was empty—and then you threaten me again. Who the hell do you think ain't gonna hold that against you?"

"Fear is what keeps people in line," the Governor says calmly.

"How long do you think it's gonna take for that fear to turn into hate?" she asks. The girl looks out the window again as her body relaxes. "Sure as hell didn't take long for me," she spits.

"Yet you get into this truck nearly every day and dig holes. You're not shackled—you could run if you wanted," he says. "Nothin's stoppin' you."

"Oh," Lassie says with the vowel elongated. "But there is, Governor… and you think you're so brilliant for never havin' to say it," she says. The man lets out a chuckle. "If I run, Merle ain't comin' with me and I'd never see Matt again—,"

"A month ago, that didn't seem like a problem for you. Actually, it seemed rather easy for you to omit Matt from your plans."

"Believe me," Lassie says with a grin, "if and when I do come up with a new plan; Matt ain't bein' left behind." She shakes her head. "Me and him have gotten out of tighter spaces than Woodbury before."

"Then why don't you and him make up a getaway?"

Lassie lets out a dry laugh. "Matt can't lie for shit." She turns her eyes onto the Governor. "By the time he knows what's goin' on, we'll already be halfway passed Knoxville," Lassie says with a haughty grin.

"Knoxville," the Governor repeats. "That's quite ambitious—,"

"Who doesn't like ambition, though?"

The man smirks. In truth, he enjoyed her cockiness. It was a nice change up over her silence. As they pull into the field, the Governor reaches across and takes his pistol before leaving the truck. Lassie steps up onto the truck's back tire and reaches into the bed to grab her shovel.

As the familiar wood brushes against her calloused hands, she takes a deep breath and drops to the ground. By her guess, the truck held four biter bodies—each would need the six foot deep, two and a half foot width and six foot length, unless the two beneath were shorted. Either way, she was looking at nearly eight hours of work—if not, more.

"You ready?" the Governor calls as he stands watch by the other graves. Lassie lowers her head and gives a nod.

"Yeah…"

As work begins, Lassie mind shrivels. At first, she couldn't help but think of the dirt being the Governor, but, after the first hole, the game got old. With her arms reaching up from the second hole, the Governor lowered his hands and pulled for the girl to climb. It was a strange thing between them. She knew the Governor could leave whenever he wanted—leave her for a death in a hole, but he always reached down and she always trusted that he bring her out.

With her back aching and legs stiff, she begins the third hole. Sweat drenches her shirt beneath the sweater as perspiration bleeds down her forehead. When the hole reaches hip deep, she takes a moment and leans on her shovel.

"You've got quite the stamina," The Governor says as he watches her for a moment. Lassie wipes at her face as her breathing keeps her from speaking. "Why not take that sweater off? It's hot out… the last thing I need is for you to pass out."

Lassie shakes her head. "The sun's goin' down. It'll start coolin' off soon—,"

"It's the hottest time of the day, Lassie," he says before handing a water bottle to her. She twists the cap off and takes three long gulps. He shrugs. "Take a break," he says and Lassie's mouth nearly falls open.

Hesitantly, Lassie lowers herself and sits at the hole's edge. She furrows her brow as the Governor seats himself across from her. His blue eyes narrow with the sun as he looks out on the field. His hand reaches for his gun and Lassie feels her body tense.

"I had a daughter," he says and Lassie studies him. He flutters his free hand out, "—Before all this," he adds. "She was a good kid…" The Governor smiles and shakes his head before lowering the Beretta 92SB beside him. "Every parent says that about their children, but… my Penny, she really was." His eyes fall to the depth of the hole. "She died…" Lassie's eyes wander trying to avoid the Governor's. He takes a breath. "She was younger than you are now. Infected and turned; like the rest of them."

The girl's jaw clenches as discomfort makes her shift. Intimate moments were never Lassie's forte.

He lets out a chuckle. "If she had met you, she would have been glued to your hip. She _loved_ people and the more different they were, the better off she was. I'll be blunt with you, Lassie, you're be right up the alley of different," he says with a smirk. Suddenly, the Governor furrows his brow. "Woodbury is more than just a place to live, Lassie," he says and the girl finally looks in his eyes. "It's a reminder of a better time; it's a place for people to be safe—for families to be safe." The Governor takes a deep breath. "This place is for my daughter even though she's gone… it's for all the children who would have ended up just the same."

"I know the way I run things is unconventional." He narrows his eyes. "But, wasn't it convention that allowed all this to happen?" The Governor shakes his head. "People get comfortable and believe they're untouchable; that is what convention does." The man presses his lips together. "Conventionality is what killed Penny, Lassie." The girl studies the Governor's face. "You need to toss in a few curveballs; make people see how dangerous the world is." The man makes a face. "If it means I'll save someone's life—be it a child or grown man—then why wouldn't I?" The Governor's eyes bounce on Lassie's face. "You can hate me for it… you can wanna kill me because of it—but you cannot tell me it doesn't work."

Lassie takes a deep breath before taking another gulp of the water. She bends as she lowers the bottle to her feet. "Would Penny hate you—,"a holler sounds off like a gun. Lassie's shoots up and sees the Governor struggling to reach his gun on the grass as a walker fights to feast.

The girl looks at the nickel shinning and darts her eyes back to the Governor as he struggles with grunts to keep the walker's mouth away from his flesh. Suddenly, the girl reaches for the pistol. She raises her hands and takes aim.

"Governor," she calls out as he struggles. His eyes fall onto her for a moment. "I want you to remember this moment," she says before her finger pulls back the trigger.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

Lassie stares up at the ceiling as she lies on her bed. The building was silent with sleep and the windows darkled with the night's blackness. Whether it would be morning soon was still in question—but it was not the thing that kept Lassie from sleep. The girl rolls to her side and watches the wall.

The look on the Governor's face was nearly enough to make Lassie shoot again. When the walker fell behind him, he dropped to his knees and let out a breath. As his eyes ventured up to Lassie, the girl dropped the gun with little emotion. It was a statement to him; she was not going to cross him. As if nothing had happened, she took her shovel back into her hands and continued digging. By the time she was finished, they had been in silence since the moment the biter held the Governor. Even throughout the drive back to Woodbury, not a word was spoken—not a whisper or breath.

Lassie tosses her blanket off and lets out an annoyed sigh. She could have ended it. This all could have been over if she had taken the second shot. The girl smirks; the way the Governor looked back at her as she held the pistol made her feel the power he had held over her for too long. It scared her; it made her feel weak.

Lassie startles at a wrap on her window. She slowly sits up and pulls back the curtain gingerly. A scream bubbles in her throat as she sees a face stare back—but calm soothes her nerves as recognition paints out the face before her. She opens the window; the screen is all that keeps her and Merle apart.

"Word around town is you saved the Governor's life," he says as his eyes study her.

Lassie shakes her head dully. "Hardly," she whispers.

Merle grins. "That ain't how the Governor feels," he says quietly. "He's happier than a pig in shit to be breathin'." Lassie rolls her eyes. "Does this mean…" Merle furrows his brow.

"There ain't a place for miles that the biters haven't already gotten to." The girl pushes back the hair in her eyes. "It was a stupid idea…"

"Now, that ain't entirely true—,"

"Merle, just forget about it," she rushes out in a low tone. She presses her lips together as her brother looks up at her. "We're together… we're safe… what more do you want?" she asks. "Ain't like we're gonna go look for Daryl while he's dead." The girl looks down at the windowsill.

Merle nods slowly at first and then picks up speed. "We keep our noses clean, then," he says.

"Live the rest of whatever life we have left under _his_ order."

Merle watches her for a moment. "You get a good night's rest, li'l sister," he says with his brow furrowing. As the girl shuts the curtain, Merle calls her again. "Lassie," he says. Lassie sighs and pulls the curtain back. "Why didn't you wanna do that in the first place?" Merle asks.

Lassie shrugs. "Why were you so quick to agree with me?" The girl folds her arms across her chest. "You were afraid he was gonna hurt me," she answers. "I was afraid he'd hurt you."

Merle takes a step back. "What changed your mind?"

"Nothing," she whispers. "But I'd rather be here than out there…"

Merle nods. "They had three walkers at the wall earlier tonight," he says. "They're gettin' restless," he adds.

Lassie smirks. "If you saw a plate of food sittin' out in the open while you starved, would you walk away from it or stay?" She rubs the back of her neck. "I have to go to sleep," she whispers after a moment.

"Yeah," Merle says. "Just stay safe out there," he adds.

Lassie's eyebrows invert. "You too, Merle," she says.

* * *

As Lassie's opens her eyes, she jerks back as she sees the Governor standing before her. "The hell you doin'—,"

"We have to make a drop off," he says. Lassie furrows her brow. "Get dressed and I'll meet you out in the truck."

Quickly, Lassie rises from her bed and slips on her sweater and jeans before heading out of her room. As she passes the table, Haley furrows her brow; the Governor had never been inclined to wake Lassie before—why now?

When Lassie reaches the truck, she opens the door to be greeted by a plate of pancakes on her seat. She furrows her brow and lifts the plate before entering the truck.

"A thank you," the Governor says before starting the truck's engine. He shifts the truck into gear. "You're gonna need it. It'll be a long day," he adds.

Lassie grabs the plate and takes a bite from one of the pancakes. "More graves?" she asks after she swallows.

The man furrows his brow as the gates pull open to make way for the truck. "Yeah," he says after a moment. As the two ride the road, Lassie furrows her brow as they take a turn off.

"Where are we goin'?" she asks as she bites into a new pancake.

The Governor's thin lips press together. "We're digging in a new spot," he says and Lassie gives an unsure nod. They drive for nearly two hours—Lassie's eyes staring out the widow at the new area. Last week the man had said something along the lines of finding a new gravesite—but the field they worked in seemed to have more than enough room for at least another twenty biters. Lassie pushes her sleeves up with unease as the truck stops in the middle of a hilly field. He sits for a moment in silence as Lassie unbuckles her seatbelt.

"I want you out," the Governor drawls out. Lassie furrows her brow as he reaches over her and opens the truck's door. "I want you to leave and never come back," he says as his brow rises to his words.

Lassie watches him for a moment before a nervous and short lived chuckle escapes her lips. She cocks her head. "What?" she asks with her eyes wincing.

"Your brother is… a valuable pawn in my group," the Governor says as his eyes look to the road ahead. "Hell, he's more of bishop, but let's not get into the logistics of things because, frankly, you've probably never played a game of chess in your life and I don't want to spend the afternoon explainin' it to you. My point is, he's unstoppable—always listens," he adds with a bit of a smirk. "He goes where I tell him to when I tell him to and he even likes it." The Governor pauses. "That is, until you showed up," he says.

Lassie's chest rises and falls to each of her struggled breaths. It would be a lie to say this was the first time someone told her to run away while she sat in the passenger seat of a truck.

"With you at Woodbury—," the Governor shakes his head, "—Merle second guesses himself. He's no longer thinkin' about what's best for the people." He turns his eyes onto Lassie. "He's too worried about what's best for his sister."

"I haven't done anythin'," Lassie says as she struggles to find her voice.

The Governor shakes his head and lets out a sigh. "No, not this time, but your brother did," he says simply. Lassie's cheeks pinch up. "He told me today that if I sent him out for a run, he didn't want to go where there was too much risk. You wanna know why?" The Governor doesn't give her a chance to answer. "Because he said he didn't want to leave _you_ on your own if something were to happen to him."

Lassie turns away from the man. Her lips tighten into a thin line. It was unfair she was the one paying for Merle's idiocy.

"So, I'm left with three choices; one, I can let you both go—give you what you wanted since the beginning; two, I can let Merle go; or three, I can let _you_ go." He shrugs. "If I go with one or two, I lose a strong person in my community." The Governor smirks. "I think you know which one I went with; don't you, Lassie?"

"He's gonna wonder what happened to me," Lassie says as she turns back to the Governor.

"Oh, I know he will," he says with a deep nod.

"What about yesterday—,"

"It's irrelevant. I'd expect that from any one of the others."

"What will you tell Merle?" she asks trying to hide her panic.

The Governor's face stretches for a second. "Tell him you jumped over the wall. Everyone's seen you eyeing it up anyway; no questions will be asked." He nods his head slowly. "I sent people out to look for you—dozens—but we only found a body… maybe a corpse reanimated—maybe you were still alive but bitten. Martinez was the one to put you down." The Governor gives a sad shake of his head. "Such a shame when the young ones turn." The man presses his lips together. "I don't want to do this Lassie," he says before shaking his head, "but for the good of my people; it's a necessity. I need to keep them safe—and if keepin' them safe means cuttin' a few loose ends, so be it."

"That's bullshit!" Lassie growl as she jumps towards him. The Governor pushes her back into her seat as his hand sits on her throat, his grip alternating in pressure.

"I could kill you right here; right now. Just a little more pressure and it could all be over," he whispers through gritted teeth as Lassie chokes with her reddening face. He releases and Lassie gasps for air as she bends forward. "Either way, it'll be the same story Merle gets."

The girl holds her throat as she slowly straightens. It was all too good to be true; finding Merle, having a safe place where she could live—it was all bullshit so long as this man ran things. Lassie winces as her eyes burn with tears.

The Governor looks calmly ahead. He shakes his head as he holds the steering wheel. "If you know what's good for you, you'd get out now," he says after a moment.

Lassie takes a deep breath before releasing a few coughs out of her raw throat. "If I asked you to tell Merle somethin'… would you do it?"

"I suppose I owe you that," he says with a low nod.

Lassie presses her lips together, her eyes scream to release their tears, but, still, she refuses to cry—after everything, she wishes not to let those salty droplets fall.

"Tell him I'm sorry that he needs to keep doin' what he's doin'. He's better than this—he deserves better than this." She narrows her eyes and grits her teeth. "And that one day we'll see each other again."

The Governor smirks at her words and anger aimed at him. "That's a nice sentiment; really sweet," he admits. The Governor cocks his head. "Words that even I would believe a dying girl would want delivered to her only living kin." Lassie's jaw clenches with hatred. "The way it was delivered, however… _that_ you need to work on."

Lassie's nose scrunches up with disgust.

The Governor looks to Lassie and nods his head. "Best be on your way now," he says with that gentlemanly smile. Instead of it making Lassie feel warm and welcomed it sends chills down her spine and makes her hair stand on end. "I'll be sure Merle gets your message," he says as the young woman slides off the seat and drops onto the ground outside. "Don't be thinkin' about coming back either," he warns as he looks out the open window at her. "I've already warned the others about you. They know if they see a little redneck in a hooded sweater runnin' around, they shouldn't hesitate to shoot," he says with a faint nod and half grin as if the words were filled with the southern hospitality he once offered to her.

"Do they also know you're not above killin' a li'l girl?"

"I'm hardly killin' you," he says with a dry chuckle. "Look at you; if you think me sending you off on your own is gonna kill you—you obviously doubt your capabilities. You survived how many months on your own? Woodbury—that was the halftime show for you; now, you're back in the game, sweetheart." He reaches under his seat and tosses something out the window. Lassie's eyes fall to the item and she shakes her head. It was her Beretta 9mm.

"This is murder—,"

"For the record, I'm not above murder," the Governor says with a straight face. "I only do it to those who are a threat to the group." He shakes his head. "I'm not killing you, Lassie. That's what those things out there are gonna do. I'm just… being a bystander, if you like—lettin' nature take its course."

Lassie runs a hand through her hair and looks up to the blue sky as her throat grows hoarse with a cry. "I've been lookin' for him since the beginnin'! He's all I've got—the only person I have left," she finishes on a whisper.

The Governor looks forward as the girl stares at his unreadable face with tears streaming down her cheeks. She watches hopelessly as the man turns the keys in the ignition. "You're lucky," he calls over the engine. "Most people lost everything a long time ago."

* * *

Merle steps out of the jeep with his brow troubled by confusion at the site of the Governor and Martinez approaching him. He keeps his mouth shut; the look on Martinez's face told him things weren't good and Merle didn't want bad news after a shit run. That was like rubbing salt in an open wound.

"Merle—," he turns his head over his shoulder as he reaches in the back of the jeep for his pack. His brow rises as the Governor steps forward. "We need to talk—,"

"What about?" Merle asks, his voice a wry rasp.

"Not out here," the Governor says with a shake of his head before his lips flatten into a sad line.

Merle hums for a moment, his eyes bouncing from the Governor to Martinez and back. "I'll be done in a minute," he says before turning back into the jeep.

"No, Merle, we need to talk now," the Governor booms.

Merle takes a loud annoyed breath and turns back to the men. He watches them for a moment, his jaw faintly grinding from side to side. He knew better than to get testy with the Governor, but the man always seemed to try his last nerve.

"Fine," Merle says as his hand and blade swinging out to his sides dramatically. "It better be quick—,"

"Or else what?" Martinez asks with a furrowed brow.

"Or else someone might take all the good things I brought back with me," Merle says with narrowed eyes as Martinez watches him cautiously. "'N' then I'll have to kick your ass." Suddenly, Merle lets out a chuckle. "Nah, I'm just messin'. What's goin' on?" He looks to the Governor. "What do you need?"

"Follow me," the Governor says with a nod before turning off of the street and heads into a building. Merle watches as Martinez holds the door for him to enter.

"Is this about… uh… my run today?" he asks quietly so only Martinez can hear.

The man's eyes shoot to the ground and he shakes his head. "Just go in. We need to tell you something."

"_We_?" Merle furrows his brow. What could they both need to tell him—what were they hiding from him that they could no longer keep in the shadows?

"Have a seat," the Governor says as he opens a cupboard and brings out a bottle of bourbon.

"The good stuff," Merle says with a chuckle.

The Governor pushes the glass in front of Merle and nods with a troubled face. The man sits down before looking to Martinez and nudging his head for him to join them. Merle lifts the glass and smells the liquor inside; his eye close as the scent teases his nose.

As his eyes open, he furrows his brow and lowers the glass back to the table. Something was off—really off. "The hell's with the special treatment?" Merle asks as he notices he is the only one with a glass of bourbon.

"Just take the drink, Merle," Martinez says with his eyes shyly looking at him and then to the table. "You're gonna need it," he adds with a faint shake of his head.

Merle's eyes narrow before he lifts the glass and downs the alcohol. He slams the glass onto the table and looks back at the two men before wiping his mouth. "What's goin' on?"

Martinez opens his mouth, but the Governor cuts him off before his words can enter the air. "Lassie was reported missin' about three hours ago," the Governor says, his eyes looking down at his hands on the table. Merle's brow inverts. "I sent a search party of about a dozen people to find her." The crooked man's eyes lift and watch Merle for a moment before he shakes his head. "After an hour and a half of looking, myself and Martinez found her about three miles east of here." Merle's brow furrows deeply as his eyes hood over. The Governor lowers his chin and shakes his head again. "I'm so sorry, Merle," he says softly and with such sincerity that it makes Martinez nearly believe the story.

Merle pushes himself back, his jaw jutted forward to hide the frown he carries. As he rises from his seat, the legs of his chair screech on the floor with the push out. Merle lowers his eyes and paces back and forth; his back hunched and legs moving about in a slow lazy fashion growing more and more unsure of each step he takes.

"She—," Merle's hand rises and pinches the bridge of his nose as he closes his eyes. His mind would not wrap around the information—he could not process it. "What happened exactly?" he asks as his hand drops back to his side and his blue eyes shoot to the Governor for answers.

The Governor sits with his back straight and hands gathered into one another on the tabletop. "Haley was the last one to see Lassie. She said she saw your sister up by the wall," he says. His eyes slowly look back to Merle. "The more I think about it, the more I believe she may have slipped… got scared… and ran," he says.

Merle's jaw clenches. "Why would she run if she fell?" he asks, the words making his face crinkle and contort with the effort it took to keep himself composed.

"It's long drop, Merle," Martinez says making Merle glare back at him. Caesar feels his insides flip as he steps into the lie. "She could have hit her head… might've been disoriented. All we know is that somehow she got over and wound up by a gas station."

Merle rubs his hand on his face before shaking his head. "Did she turn?" he asks as he looks back to Martinez. Silence invades the small room. "Governor… did she turn?" Merle takes a step forward.

The Governor shakes his head, his chin lowered and eyes closed as if the false memory was too much to recall. "Martinez took care of it when we saw the bite marks on her arms."

Merle struggles for a breath; it feels as though he has been punched in the gut and someone sits on his chest. He turns to the wall, his one hand holding him up as he hunches over trying to breath. "She's gone…" he nearly whispers. The men watch as Merle shakes his head slowly. They dare not approach him as they see his shoulders bounce up and down with his silent sobs.

"She told me something she wanted you to know, though," the Governor says with his voice rising gently over Merle's silent cries. "She said she was sorry. She said that you need to keep doin' what you're doin'." The Governor lowers his eyes. "You're better than this—you deserve better than this, Merle." The man watches as Merle turns towards him. "She said that one day you two will meet again," he adds with a solemn nod.

Merle shakes his head as anger contorts his face. "This wouldn't have happened if you had kept an eye on her!" he growls. "Instead you send that Haley bitch out to babysit."

"I had other obligations that needed to be dealt with," the Governor defends.

Merle turns his head away. "And what's your excuse?" he asks as he looks to Martinez.

The man shakes his head. "I don't have one for you," Martinez nearly whispers. "I… I'm sorry, Merle… I just… I didn't think she'd jump—,"

"But you saw her on the wall?" Merle barks and Martinez jumps back.

"Merle, this is not a time to be blaming people," the Governor booms. "You're grieving, I know that. It hurts—we all know that." The man furrows his eyebrows. "If you don't think this death resonates with everyone, you're very wrong." The Governor shakes his head. "Lassie was a child. When news gets out, all of Woodbury will be in mourning." His voice trembles as he says, "She was a good kid."

Merle's mouth pinches into a thin line.

The Governor's eyes drop to the table. "She saved my life… I only wish I could have returned the favour."

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

Lassie pushes back the blonde strands that tickle her nose and tamper her vision. She grunts as she pulls up the planks of wood from the floor. It had been longer than she cared to keep track of since she had last seen her brother. In her mind—in this world—she was alone; she was all that mattered, anything or anyone else was just a decoy that had the potential of distracting her.

As she lifts the second plank she lowers herself feet first below. There was a depression in the hay insulation; that was where she slept from sundown to sunrise. With her fingers fumbling to pull the planks back over herself, Lassie lets out a shivered breath. The air was changing; temperature was dropping and winter was on its way. Another birthday would come and pass and she would be… what was it now? Lassie rolls onto her side and furrows her eyebrows. She had been fifteen when she left home, sixteen the year the biters began—Lassie's eyebrows rise. She was going to be seventeen—if she lived long enough.

The girl gingerly curls her knees up to her chest. The space was small and nearly claustrophobic. The first night in the floorboards, Lassie had a panic attack—but it was either sleep under the planks or risk having a biter come at her while she slept in the open. She had known enough to realize having a panic attack was better than waking up to a biter crawling up her legs looking for a meal.

Her eyes close as she tries to remember her brothers' faces. Merle was easiest to remember; his image came to her mind followed by his rough wheezy voice and hoarse laugh. Daryl, on the other hand, was more difficult. Over the last few years, his face seemed to melt down until it was only the eyes she could see; they were like an ocean's waves crusting and crashing into a ship's hull.

When she stopped seeing his face, she was worried; if her mind couldn't see him anymore, what use were her memories if she couldn't see his face? However, the eyes were all she needed in truth. Since she was a little girl, all she wanted was to have her eyes match his; to share that same intensity—that same calm hurricane that revved in them. As Lassie drifts into sleep, her mind plays over what she had done that day.

She had spoken to herself; she only did it because she was afraid she lost the ability to talk. She had killed two walkers when she should have used the energy to find food. She had drunk from a pond when she knew she would regret it the next day. She had nearly given up on herself; but she denied it. She would tell herself she did her best even when every ounce of her soul knew better. She allowed her lonesomeness to get the better of her. She had given up and was waiting to die; the sweet release of death was what she craved most in this world.

Lassie's body ached even in her sleep. The muscles in her legs burned with such intensity that she would wake from the cramps. Her shoulders were so knotted she could barely raise her arms above her waist without pain. Her hands were blistered and feet rubbed raw; sometimes her eyes would ache with not explanation as to why.

As the girl rolls in her sleep, she lets out a whimper. The dreams had gotten worse. If she didn't wake from her legs, it was her own fears that made her jerk relentlessly. Sometimes it was a memory from her father, other times it was the doctor; in more recent dreams, it was the biters. The thought of them coming at her while she was alone; to know no one would be around to help her—no one would put her down; that was the most she feared.

Footsteps sound above and still the girl sleeps. A trained ear would be able to detect six separate people above, even though the steps are light and cautious. The men above are looking for refuge; they care not who or what is inside the old farmhouse—all they need is a place to rest their weary souls.

Suddenly, a fourth set of footsteps track into the house. They're more solid, enough to make Lassie stir.

"All right, fellas," a voice calls out making Lassie's eyes shoot open. Her heart pounds in her chest as she tries to look through the space between the floorboards. "Looks like we've got a nice little place to sleep for the night… sure beats the ground—," there are footsteps above that make dust fall onto Lassie's face. She wipes it away quickly as her eyes wildly watch through the boards yet see nothing due to the darkness. "Lou, I want you keepin' an eye for the first little while," the man says. "That means, Billy, you better get some sleep because you're up next." A mumble sounds before a chuckle releases into the black air. "After that, Harley, you're gonna be on watch. We'll be back on the move come morning," he finishes.

"Why don't you ever keep watch?" a voice asks as movement sounds above. There is a moment of tension filled silence.

"I already do," the first man says in a firm voice. "I have to keep an eye on all you to make sure you don't kill each other." There is a pause and then suddenly a chuckle. Lassie closes her eyes for a second as footsteps sound and furniture is moved above.

"Claimed," a voice calls out.

"Claimed," another sounds. Over and over again, that same word sings out until finally there is nothing more worthy of being called for. A fire is lit in the hearth above as the intruders make themselves at home above Lassie's hollow. Someone takes a step above her and more dust falls. The girl struggles as her nose fights for a sneeze. She pinches the bridge of her nose and just when she lowers her hands believing it to be a false call, her body lets out the sneeze.

Lassie cups her mouth as the noise above dives into a deathly silence. She slowly turns to her belly and attempts to tunnel out.

"Is there someone in here?" a voice calls out.

"If you come out now, we promise not to hurt you," another says before a hum of laughter.

Lassie stops all movement as the bodies above start their search. She burrows her face into the hay below and closes her eyes. As much as she wished for death, _this_ was not how she imagined it to go. She turns her face up and looks through the spaces and sees a face. Their eyes connect for a moment and Lassie shuts her dark orbs tightly.

"They're under the floor!" the figure calls out in a rushed and excited voice. The girl turns back to her belly as the figure begins pulling at the wrong boards. Lassie worms her way as fast as she can; hay glues to her sweat soaked skin while her head spins with adrenaline. She hears something being tossed to the floor above and light shines underneath. They found her planks.

Lassie kicks out and screams as hands hook around her ankles and yank. She grips onto whatever her fingers can reach as the pulling hands pry her from the insulated bed. Lassie holds onto the planks still nailed in as the hands continue to pull her out. One arm holds her waist as another makes a fist and hammers at her hands to set free. A new arm wraps around her neck as she releases and she kicks out again landing her foot onto something that produces a groan. She throws her head back trying to hit the face behind her only to have a laugh sound from the person holding her.

"She's a fighter," it calls out patronizingly. Lassie lets out a primal growl as she scratches at the arm around her waist. Suddenly, she's released; dropped to the floor only to land on her hip. As the girl's eyes look to the group with like a terrified feral cat, she cannot see a way out. There was no escape; she was surrounded.

With the faces around her turning into swirls, Lassie takes a chance and pushes through them. Without a second thought, the girl jumps out the window. Glass shatters all around her body as she lies still for a moment. Shards stick out her forearm like the dorsal spine of an iguana; blood seeps from jagged scratches on her shoulder and face. Lassie can hear hollers from inside and quickly pushes herself up. There was no time to let this new pain engulf her; she needed to run.

As she rises, she brings a piece of glass up with her. If they wanted to fight, she was prepared to do what it took to survive. She races out into the yard of the farmhouse. The woods was just past the mail box down the driveway. She had been in there many times; more often than not she would go in with hopes of finding an animal under a deadfall she set up, but she was never granted it.

With her feet slapping the gravel below her, she makes a break for it. Voices holler out behind her, but she keeps her eyes ahead. She needed this moment. She needed to know what would make her want to keep going; she needed to know she _wanted_ to keep going.

Lassie jumps over a log and pushes at the branches in her way as she races through the trees. She needed to feel the rush of what life was—she needed to know she could still breathe—that she still had fight. As the evening breeze blows back her hair, Lassie dips under a fallen tree and continues. She knew she would regret the energy burn in the morning, but this was an emergency. What else could she have done; allow them to take her?

As she enters a grove, she hits something hard and falls onto the grass below. As her eyes shoot up in the darkness to the figure, a voice calls out and a wall of light blinds her. Lassie's arm rises to shield her eyes; she is a deer in headlights. Everything that had just happened had left her mind for now she was too concerned with what the wall was and how it got there.

After what felt like a century, hands reach out and lift her to her feet roughly. The hollers sound again from behind and Lassie remembers why she was running before.

She juts forward only to have the figure hold her back. "Hold on, now," the voice says before a chuckle. "There's no use in running," he says. Lassie winces as he pulls her back against him. She watches the trees with her eyes wide with fear. He was going to feed her to the wolves.

Lassie juts forward again and brings her piece of broken glass up as she turns to the man. She juts her arm forward for a slice only to have the man smack it away effortlessly. He grips her again, grunting to keep her still.

With the wall of light shining out at the trees, Lassie watches reluctantly as the faces come out. As her eyes rise to them, smiles and chuckles sound between them. The girl lets out a whimper as she wriggles and squirms under the grip of the man behind her. His chin rests on her shoulder as he lets out a hum of laughter.

"Don't worry; I won't let them hurt you too bad," he says before rising his head back to the group of men.

"Joe—," Lassie's eyes shoot to the source of the voice. It's feminine but carries a familiar undertone Lassie had once known. "I'm cutting the lights, we don't have much power left," she calls and suddenly the grove blackens to its natural light.

"Adrienne!" Lassie screams out as the woman approaches. Her eyes struggle to adjust, but there was no denying the voice. "Adrienne Yorkshire!" she hollers with a bend as if her voice took all her strength.

"Whoa," the woman says before taking hurried steps towards the girl. "Lassie—,"

"Lassie?" the man behind the girl says.

"Claimed," a voice drones making Lassie's eyes shoot to a new face.

"She can't be claimed," the voice behind her strikes a recognizable chord.

"What do you mean, Joe? If you're gonna make the rules you might as well follow them like the rest of us—,"

"He said she can't be claimed, Harley!" Adrienne barks.

Joe releases the girl from his arms and turns her towards him. "She can't be claimed, simple as that," he says as his hand rests on her shoulder. Suddenly, Lassie sees him; the salt and pepper hair, the dull blue eyes, everything she knew from before only with a little more edge and grit. She rushes at him in a hug and Adrienne tilts her head with a grain of confusion. The girl's hands grip at Joe's jean jacket tightly; she was afraid that if she let go they would take her.

"She your daughter or something?" another voice calls out with a humoured chuckle.

"Yeah," Joe says in a challenging way. "Now," he says as his hand rubs Lassie's back in circles, "I'll say it again; she can't be claimed." His cheeks pinch up and he shakes his head. "You know I don't like repeating myself, Billy," he adds. Joe's eyes fall down onto Lassie. "You okay, Lassie?" Lassie gives a nod as her head stays glued to his chest.

"You don't seem okay," he says softly. "What'd you guys do to her?" he barks out. Lassie cringes with his voice. He rests his hand on the back of her head. "You just need a breather," he nearly whispers as the faces that look to them remain silent.

Lassie takes a step back, her eyes are still wild. "I need to—I need to—,"

"It's all right, kit cat," Joe says. The nickname makes Lassie yoyo back into his arms. She presses her cheek against his chest and shuts her eyes tight. She wasn't sure of anything. Lassie didn't even know what she was trying to say.

"Go on without me, fellas; we'll be there in a few," Joe says with a waving hand. One of the men furrows their brow. "It's all right, Lou. Lassie just needs a minute," he assures and the man slowly follows the rest back to the farmhouse.

Joe takes a deep breath and kisses the top of Lassie's head. It had been so long since he last saw a familiar face—especially one so young.

"I'm alone," Lassie whispers.

"Not anymore," Joe soothes.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

**Sorry for the long pause... I've been busy with work and I might actually be doing the illustrations for a children's book. Fingers crossed!**

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen**

"You're gonna get sick eating at that speed," Joe says with a bit of a chuckle. In the farmhouse, everyone but Joe, Adrienne and herself were asleep. Lassie lowers the can of peas and looks down at the floorboards. Hay dusted the floor from the excitement earlier—yellow straw still sat embedded in her hair.

Lassie takes a breath and wipes her hands on her pants. "You said I was your daughter," she says softly as her eyes land on Joe.

He gives a nod with a grin. "I had to," he says.

"They wouldn't have left you alone if he didn't," Adrienne adds.

Lassie gives a nod as if it is all the answer she needs. The world had changed since Woodbury; people were more hostile—some took advantage of what stood before them. It was one of the reasons Lassie stayed alone on the outside for so long. A second passes as Adrienne's eyes meet with Joe's and then look back to the girl.

She raises her eyes brows and gives a shrug. "I thoughts you were dead," Adrienne says with a dash of shame. "I thought the moment you left you had maybe a day… two at best." She shakes her head. "I should have given you the knife… I knew that stupid gun wouldn't last—,"

"I still have it," Lassie says softly. She shrugs. "There's no bullets, but I kept it…" She shakes her head and runs a hand through her hair. "I don't know why, I… I just did."

"Protection," Adrienne says with a hand gripping the girl's knee tightly. Lassie nods slowly as Adrienne lets out a sigh. "Probably would have been a good idea to have whipped that thing out at the fellas when they found you—,"

"I don't think so," Joe says with his eyebrows rising. "They would have really hurt you then." Lassie takes a handful of peas and stuffs them into her mouth.

"You look like a skeleton," Adrienne almost whispers. "I barely even recognized you."

"I was wondering where the rest of her went too, Sergeant," Joe says as Adrienne winces at the title.

"I haven't been able to find food," Lassie says after a hard swallow. "The last thing I ate was almost a week ago." She wipes her hand on her jeans again. "A can of peaches in the cupboard here; just sitting there by itself—kind of like it was forgotten."

"Sounds like a metaphor for the state we're in," Joe says with a nod as he scratches at his chin. "Sitting in the cupboard of life; forgotten only to be discovered by a thing that'll devour us," he says before looking back at the girl. Joe pushes his hair back and lets a smirk pull at his lips. "How'd you two meet?" he asks as his eyes fall to Adrienne.

"She managed to take my gun away and threatened to shoot me," Adrienne says quickly.

"Adrienne helped me escape…" Lassie chews her lip for a moment as her mind falls towards Private Mazes' unfortunate death. That was the first time she had seen it first hand—the first time she watched someone struggle with the fever and then be put down once he turned. When it first happened, she thought she would never be able to get that image out of her head—but now, it was the furthest thing from her mind. "How'd you and Adrienne meet?" she asks; the words almost struggled as she pulls herself from the memory.

Joe lets out a laugh. "When we saw her, we thought she was trying to steal from us." He shakes his head. "There was a lot of hollering…"

"Yeah," Adrienne nearly whispers before wiping her nose. "I stayed with them thinking we might be headed to Savannah at some point."

"She didn't believe me when I said that place was a complete FUBAR situation," Joe says as he leans towards Lassie.

Adrienne shakes her head. "You didn't go there, right?"

Lassie shakes her head. "No… I got messed up with other things."

Adrienne nods. "I tried looking for you, Lassie." Her dark eyes watch the girl for a moment. "I checked around all the safe zones I told you about. Joe kept telling me you were dead—,"

"That's because I didn't know you were talking about kit cat. You never told me the kid's name just that you needed to find her," Joe remarks.

Adrienne hums a laugh. "Yeah," she says with a nod. "And when you asked why I told you it was because she had my gun." Lassie fakes a humoured smile. "How'd you wind up with this old man anyway?" Adrienne asks with a laugh.

"Oh, Lassie and me go way back," Joe says as he reclines back. "Some kid messed up with things she shouldn't be messed up with. She shot like a bullet right into my chest. When I looked down at her, I saw the fear she had…" His eyes fall onto the girl. "Kind of like the way you were tonight."

"I was alone," Lassie says as she remembers that faithful day in Atlanta.

Joe turns to Adrienne. "I used to run a homeless shelter," he says and Adrienne nods. "Lassie was one of the faces that stayed at the centre."

Lassie looks to the floorboards. She almost felt guilty she didn't take any of the others with her. She never even thought about helping those on the streets struggling. In the moment, all she thought she had time to do was run when in retrospect she could see she had many opportunities to help those who needed it.

"You don't look like the type to run a homeless shelter," Adrienne says after a moment.

"Well, you don't look like the type to be a sergeant; but you are." Joe rises from his reclined position. "Lou was a high school teacher, Billy was a mechanic, Len was police officer, Harley was a stay at home dad, Dan was… I'm not sure exactly what he did. He once told me he was writer… and then at some point he said he painted. I guess you could say he was a bit of an entrepreneur."

"I never knew any of that," Adrienne says with a shrug. "I've been with you guys for how long and none of this ever came up—,"

"You never asked," Joe says with a quietly. "Priorities changed. What someone was before no longer applies now." Joe takes a deep breath. "I think it's time for bed," he says before rising from the floor. He looks down at Lassie for half a second. "I'll tell you how things are run in the morning."

Adrienne pulls at something in the darkness and then hands it to Lassie. "It's not that warm… but it does bring a sense of comfort," she says as the girl takes the folded white hospital blanket. "If you wake up and need someone, I'll be right here," Adrienne adds. She gives a smirk as she lowers herself to the floor with her pack under her head like a pillow. "I think you'll like being with us."

* * *

With the rise of the morning sun, Lassie eyes burn. She hadn't slept at all. Every noise she heard—every shift in weight, every laboured breath—her heart would race and her body would stiffen. It had been too long since she had last been with people. She wasn't used to the noises they made anymore.

When Joe saw that the girl was awake, he waved her to the door to follow him. He was back to the man she once knew; he smiled his cheeky smile, his eyes were soft and inviting. Lassie almost felt as though she were happy—that was, until she saw what he was waving her over for.

"You see it?" he asks as they step out onto the porch. Lassie eyes dull as they land on three walkers. She gives a faint nod. "They're weak," Joe adds. "You see how they're movements are a little more stiff and rigid?" Again, Lassie nods. "That means they're starving. Maybe won't die… but they're slower than what fresh biters are." Lassie takes her eyes away from the walkers and looks out to the trees. "Have you ever noticed that?" Joe asks.

Lassie shakes her head. "I never took the time to watch 'em," she admits.

Joe presses his lips together for half a second and furrows his brow. "They're attracted to noise," he says and Lassie nods.

"I know," she says.

"Lights too," he adds. "You got flare or… a fire; they come lookin' for a meal." He smirks. "You saw the wall," he says with a smirk. "They're like moths; they're attracted to it for some reason." Joe gives a shrug. "I ain't saying to set up a bunch of those solar lights you find in your grandma's garden. Biters like the expensive stuff; something that flashes or that's so bright it'll be seen for miles."

"So, if I'm ever being chased I should just start fire?" Lassie asks before letting out a bitter chuckle. "I ain't got time for that, Joe—dad," she corrects herself. Lassie swallows hard; the name switch felt wrong—forced almost.

Joe gives a smirk at the name. "I'm just telling you so you know there are other ways to distract them," he says simply. "I'm not always gonna be around. Who knows, maybe we'll get separated and then what? You hide in the floorboards waiting to die?"

Lassie rolls her eyes. "I wasn't waitin' to die," she says through the side of her mouth.

"From what Billy was saying, you were. Nothing in the house shows any sign of someone living in there. There's a few tracks in the grass, but even then, they don't go much further than the first fifty feet of the woods." Joe shakes his head. "It's okay if you were giving up—hell, I would have given up too." He watches Lassie for a moment. "Just don't let it happen again, all right?"

Lassie lowers her chin and raises her brow. "Yeah," she says with slight annoyance.

"Let's go take care of these guys before the others wake up," Joe says as he takes a step down the porch. Lassie follows Joe into the yard, the man hands a steak knife to her before taking out his own pocket knife as they approach the intruders.

Just as Joe reaches the first one, he jabs his knife into the walker's forehead effortlessly. Soon, he takes after the second one; the blade jabs three times into the creatures head as if it refuses to die. Lassie stands before the third and final walker. Killing them was never one of her favourite things to do. All she could think about was how they had once been a person—that they were once a brother or sister, a son or daughter, perhaps even a mother or father.

The walker makes its way towards her; his steps are stiff and his breathing his laboured. His arms stretch out to her as he lets out grunts and gurgles. Lassie steps back. What difference would it make if she were to kill him or not? There were still thousands—maybe even millions of them and only a handful of people like her left.

Lassie furrows her brow as the walker grips at her shirt's neck. She swipes the knife across the walker's throat only to have the black old blood sprits and then slowly drip from the dead skin of the walker. She makes a face as he widens his mouth for a premature bite. Saliva stretches on his top and bottom teeth only to snap when he lets out a frustrated growl.

"Come on, Lassie," Joe says with his patience running thin. Lassie looks up at the walker and quickly brings her knife's blade up and under his jaw. His body stiffens for a moment and then he falls to the ground; the blade still under his chin.

She stands for a moment, her eyes tracing the walker. Joe approaches and retrieves the blade from the monster. "At least I know you can kill them," he says. "But that hesitation needs to stop right not," Joe says.

Lassie furrows her brow. She didn't hesitate. Hesitation was against her rules. "I didn't—,"

"It doesn't matter now; it's in the past. Just don't let it happen again." Joe's hand rises to his chin as he strokes his beard in thought. "I think we might be headed north today," he says. Joe shakes his head. "South is nothing but a wasteland; east we'll get to the coast… but I don't think there'll be much out there. If we go west there's a chance things aren't as bad… but there's nothing promising that. North has the winter," he says with a nod. "They might freeze in the cold," Joe adds with a bit of a nod.

"What if they don't?" Lassie asks.

"Then I guess we're just looking for a shittier hand than we've already been dealt."

Lassie nods. There would never be a guarantee; everything would pan out from luck and chance. "What about people?" she asks.

"What about them?" Joe shrugs.

"What happens if we run into some?"

Joe's face stretches. "Depends on the people." His eyes land on Lassie. "If they're of use, we keep them; if they don't bring anything to the table, we leave them behind. Easy as that," he says.

"You guys didn't seem like that last night," Lassie says. "Looked like you guys were gonna do somethin' kinda bad to me." She narrows her eyes. "You guys wouldn't do something like that, would you?"

Joe takes a deep breath. "You know, kit cat, there are needs beyond food and shelter," he says. "My main job is to make sure the fellas are happy because when they aren't there's no tellin' what they'll do." Joe shrugs. "If they wanted to do something bad in order for them to be happy, I have to say I'd support it. I don't need them to turn against me—or against anyone for that matter."

Lassie lips part with disgust. "How many times have they raped someone?" she spits out like poison. "How many people have they hurt—how many innocent people have they harmed?"

Joe shakes his head. "Nobody's innocent, Lassie, not anymore." His eyes fall to the yard behind the girl. "We've all done terrible things. Some of them might even be things that could have been avoided… but we still did them."

"I haven't done anything like that," Lassie barks back righteously.

"You will," Joe says. "You'll do something that'll make it hard for you to look back at your own reflection." Joe's chin lowers as he looks down at his feet. "Everyone does; the fellas, me… Adrienne—,"

"Adrienne wouldn't—,"

"She killed a man with her bare hands because she thought he was looking at her funny," Joe says with a bit of a chuckle and a faint shrug. "We aren't people anymore, kit cat. We've become wild dogs looking out only for ourselves. We only stay in packs because we like the illusion of a team… but we ain't a team."

Lassie shifts her weight. Her eyes look up to the man and she feels a part of her break. He was no longer the man who helped people; he was no longer warm and inviting. Joe was cold and ominous. The smile he once carried was weighed down by a frown of indignity. He had lost who he was in exchange for leading a group.

"You're safe," he says as if to reassure her. "I may be a wild dog, but you're my pup. I'll tear any of these hound's necks out if they cross you."

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Chapter Ninteen**

The group Joe was with had been in the woods for nearly a month before finding Lassie. The only time they would leave was if they needed food or supplies. When it came time for sleep, they slept wherever their feet happened to be. Joe once said they had slept in the ditch off some highway; roughin' it, he called it, with little more than a can of peas between them all. More times than not, they would sleep by a fire's dying embers in the middle of nowhere. None of them seemed to really mind; it was as if they had adapted nearly completely to their new world.

Joe's orders, Lassie noted, were disguised as mere suggestions but his _fellas_ were more than willing to listen and carry out his words. Adrienne and Lou, a quiet, balding man, seemed to be on a different level than the others. The two had the power to ignore Joe or advise the man if they felt his way of action was wrong. They rarely took the opportunity to do so, but when they did, Joe always played it off coolly.

Lassie marches with her head down. They had been on the road for nearly two weeks. After staying in the farmhouse for three days, they began following a railway track that sliced through the woods. Silence seemed to be the _fella's_ favourite kind of noise. None of them spoke unless it was to 'claim' something along the tracks. Lassie stayed at Joe's side where she decided it was safest. She was too cautious to be on her own with the others. She may have spent a few days with Adrienne, but Joe she _knew_. He was like a father to her at the centre.

As the two march side by side, Joe reaches a hand out and mats Lassie knotted hair. He smirks down at her as her dark eyes rise to him. "You're so quiet, kit cat," he says with a chuckle as the _fellas_' feet drag along.

Lassie turns her head over her shoulder slightly and then looks back forward. _They_ were watching; listening; waiting. She gives a shrug. "It's just been awhile since I've been with people," she says.

"I guess we can be forgiving of that," Joe says with a smirk as his eyes head out to the horizon. "You may be quiet company, but you're good company none the less."

"Where are we goin'?" she asks after a moment.

The older man runs a hand through his salt and pepper hair and lets out a long breath. He wasn't sure; all he knew was that he needed to keep moving. The lame brains weren't the only thing that kept him on his toes. He learned the hard way people were worse than animals when it came to taxing situations.

"Where do you wanna go?" he asks with a tilt of his head and a wry smile on his lips.

Lassie furrows her brow. It seemed rather silly to ask such a thing. "I don't know," she murmurs. Everywhere was the same; different walkers, different buildings, but everything carried the same likeness of desperation and hopelessness. It did not matter where or how a person was to get somewhere; what mattered was if they were still them when they got there.

Joe nods his head slowly. "Have you been with other people?" he asks and Lassie gives a faint nod.

"After splittin' from Adrienne, I met up with this kid… eventually we wound up with a group," she says. Even with Joe being one of the few beings Lassie knew from before, she decided vague was how she wanted to play this game.

"What happened?" Joe asks.

Lassie takes a breath and presses her lips together. "I found myself on the outside," she nearly whispers. Joe gives a nod with his lips in an 'O' shape as if he understood exactly what she had gone through.

"They should have known better than to outcaste you," he spits before letting out a chuckle and nudging the girl's shoulder.

"What 'bout you?" she asks after a moment.

Joe's light eyes watch her for a second before darting back out to the railway. "Lou's been with me since I got out of Atlanta," he says. "Found each other in a bit of a stand off for a can of vegetable soup just outside of some shit speck on a map called Shady Dale." He smirks. "We've kind of just been wandering ever since. It's a bit of a snowball effect with our group. First it was Harley who joined us, and then it was Len and Billy, the rest just seemed to show up." He furrows his brow for a half second. "Never really meant for this to be a group project… but… I guess you need manpower these days."

Lassie's eyebrows rise and she gives a slow nod. The bigger the group, the less likely others would attack. If others did attack, one had the power to defend. Lassie's eyes watch a bird in the sky as it caws down to them. "People are drawn to leaders," she says in passing.

"Well, I'm not much of a leader," Joe says with a smirk. "But thanks," he adds.

"There should be a town just a couple miles east of here—," Lassie turns her head over her shoulder to see Adrienne nudging her head in the direction of her words. "There was a barracks. Stayed a few months there back when I was a private," she adds. Adrienne's eyebrows furrow for a moment. "Nice place; if nothing else, there are beds… nobody would have to sleep on the ground."

"How far east?" Joe asks.

Adrienne Yorkshire gives a faint shrug. "It'd probably take us about an hour or two to get there if we started now. It wouldn't take us too far off track. Just follow the highway over there—," she extends a finger out to a stretch of road, "—it should take us right into town."

"What do you say, fellas?" Joe calls out as he stops in his tracks. "Do we listen to the sergeant and head off to a nice cozy bed?"

Lassie furrows her brow. "What if there's biters?" she asks in a hushed tone.

"What if there are biters," Joe repeats with a scoff. "There will always be biters, Lassie."

"I wouldn't mind a mattress," one of them calls out before murmurs of approval sound from the others.

Lassie watches the men as they nod their heads and talk amongst each other. "I guess we're listenin' to Adrienne then. Lead the way," Joe says with a smirk and a gesture for the woman to escort. As the woman passes Lassie, Adrienne gives the girl a gentle smirk and nod of her head.

"Sometimes I wonder if there's an actual track we're following—," Lassie's eyes dart to the face now beside her. A man with a long face looks back at her for a moment. He gives a shrug. "If we are, it'd be him and Adrienne who know." Lassie's brow furrows for a second as the man gives a quick nervous smile. "Billy," he says with his hand stretching out as the girl takes it carefully. "And you're Lassie—Joe's daughter." The girl gives a cautious nod. Billy shrugs and lets out a small laugh. "I guess you get your looks from you mom," he rushes out.

"Yeah, you sure don't look like Joe—," Lassie turns her head to her opposite side as a new face speaks. "Are you adopted?" the new man asks.

"It's not polite to ask stuff like that, Len," Billy warns. "You don't have to answer that—,"

"It was an honest question. She ain't much of a Joe… I don't know what his wife looked like—but I know enough to see he's a little old to be her father." Lassie watches as Len strokes his balding brown hair. "Just a question," he says with a bit of a sigh.

"The only thing you two idiots need to know is that I ain't that old. She's mine whether it's through blood or bond, it don't matter," Joe interrupts as he bumps Len over to be at Lassie's side.

"I was just tryin' to make polite conversation—,"

"Polite would have been asking how the weather's been," Joe says sternly with his black and grey eyebrows furrowing.

"She takes after her mother," Joe says as his eyes briefly touch Lassie. "She gets her brains from me," he adds with a smirk.

"I don't recall you ever talkin' about a daughter," Len says a-matter-of-factly.

Joe turns his head to the man and crinkles his nose in distaste. "I don't recall _you_ talking about your past, but I wouldn't be surprised if we ran into a brother or sister of yours—,"

"Greg's dead, and Rita and her kids are probably dead too, ain't no reason to talk about things that don't matter no more," Len says with his chin rising haughtily.

"Same goes for why I never said anything about Lassie. It hurts to bring those things up. You take it day by day—it just so happens that she wasn't dead," Joe defends. "Now, are there any other uncertainties we're having on this beautiful day?"

Len turns his head away and mutters, "No," as Billy merely shakes his head.

"Why don't you two head to the back. I think Lassie would appreciate not being thrown to the wolves just yet," Joe suggests; the _fellas_ oblige.

"Thank you," Lassie nearly whispers as she struggles for a breath.

"Do you believe the gall of some people?" Joe asks with disgust. He shakes his head and sighs. "You'd think I was some kind of lying dictator the way those two act—,"

"It was okay," Lassie says. "Billy was just tryin' to talk to me… it was Len who made it weird."

"Either way, I don't want you with those two alone," Joe warns. "Billy is mostly harmless, but Len ain't nothing but bad news."

"It was okay—,"

"Did you hear me?" Joe snaps.

"Yeah," Lassie says as she draws her chin back to his words.

"Are you gonna listen?"

Lassie studies the man's face for a moment before giving a shallow nod.

Suddenly, Joe lets out a chuckle and shakes his head. "God, you've grown up." He looks to the back of Adrienne's head as she marches them to the town. "It's like yesterday you were some little runt running through the streets and then today you're… a woman." He smirks as his eyes hit her. "I can't imagine how difficult the last couple years have been, kit cat." Joe nods his head briefly. "But you've done a good job for yourself."

Lassie arches an eyebrow and lets out a dry laugh. "I doubt my brothers would think the same," she says loud enough for only Joe to hear. "Lying under some floorboards ain't exactly thriving to them."

Joe's head bobs in a nod before he tilts his face towards her. "Did you end up finding them?" he asks.

"I found one," she says through the side of her mouth. "He told me the other was dead," she adds with slight bitterness.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Joe says with knitted eyebrows.

Lassie shrugs it off. "Merle was with the group I found myself in," she says. "He thinks I'm dead now," she adds softly. Lassie's dark eyes fall to the tracks. "Maybe it's for the best; he doesn't have to worry 'bout me—,"

"Instead he's worried about how scared you were in your final moments," Joe says with his nose turning up. "Whose idea was it to fake your death?" he asks. Lassie makes a face. "I know it wasn't yours. That's not your style, kit cat."

Lassie draws in a long breath. "The leader of the group made me go." She looks at the heels of Adrienne's boots as she marches onward. "Drove out to a field a couples miles from the place and then… just… dropped me off. Told me like it is and how it would be; I didn't have much of a choice in the matter, really," Lassie says with a side smirk.

"Sounds like the guy was a coward," Joe spits. "You must've scared him—,"

"I could've killed him," Lassie rushes out. "I could've shot him dead and been _so_ much better off," she says. Lassie stuffs her hands in her sweater pockets. "I would've still been with Merle and he wouldn't have to worry 'bout me… but instead I'm here," she says. "I've got nothin' left, Joe," Lassie barely breaths out.

Joe watches her for half a second before looking ahead and taking a slow breath. "You've got me," he says softly. "I know it isn't the same… but I think I'm a little more than nothing—," he turns his head towards her with a smirk, "—don't you think?"

Lassie smiles back with a few nods. "I guess," she says.

"You _guess_?" Joe furrows his brow as Lassie lets out a chuckle. He shakes his head and scratches his chin. "Well, your guess is as good as mine."

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty**

The barracks was located on the outskirts of the town; a high chain link fence keeping it out of reach from the public and keeping it's training field untouched by civilian feet. It did not take long for them to see the ground trampled by walker feet. The moans and groans could be heard from nearly three blocks away, but all of them seemed to hope even when hope was dead.

"Is there another entrance?" Joe asks as the group stands twenty feet from the fenced yard.

Adrienne rubs the back of her head and takes a deep breath. "The only way to get to the armoury is through the fence. It's isolated…" She narrows her eyes. "We could make our way through the hall and try to enter the field that way… but I don't want to be leading everyone to their death." She shakes her head. "There's no guarantee there's anything left…"

Joe lets out a sigh as he palms his face with frustration building. Not only did they stray from the track he wanted to follow, but now the only good the destination provided was likely more lost than Atlantis.

"What do you suggest?" Joe asks as a group of biters wander the fence; their dead milky eyes watching while their hunger hinges their jaws.

Adrienne Yorkshire places a hand on her hip as the other rubs her chin in thought. "Use those wire cutters you've got and make a quick escape before sending anyone in there," she says with a bob of her head. "That way they have three possible exits to choose from and hopefully the biters don't notice the hole."

"Joe—," the man turns his head to see Len's approach.

"Yeah," he says with slight annoyance.

"We've got a problem," Len says and Joe rolls his eyes.

"No doubt we do… just look at them all—,"

"A different problem," Len says with his eyebrows knitting with concern and caution. Joe furrows his brow but nods his head for the man to continue. "We haven't seen—,"

"Who is that?" Adrienne gasps as she looks inside the fence. Joe whips his head and peers through the links as a small figure races through the field like a bullet.

"What the hell does she think she's doing?" Joe growls as the girl stops abruptly before a group of walkers and heads off in a new direction to lose them. The man turns to Len. "You get Lassie the hell out of there," he says in a warning tone. "I don't care how; you just do—you got that?" Len's head bounces up and down in a nod before the man heads back to the group of misfit followers.

Adrienne watches as Lassie slides on the grass and serpentines through the walkers. The woman turns her head partway to Joe as they watch the scene. "You have to admit, it's kind of impressive," she says with a smirk before dropping it at the request of Joe's glare.

* * *

"This is stupid," Lassie repeats over and over under her breath as she races through the field. A scream rises up her throat as her feet slide on the grass before a walker. As she heads off into a new direction she keeps her eyes only on the path she wishes to follow. "This is really stupid," she squeaks out as a biter lunges towards her for a taste.

There were fewer than a hundred—but no less than fifty standing in the field when their eyes first found the barracks. Being in the fence, the amount felt higher—oxygen felt lowered and the air was stained with the dead stench. Lassie swallows back a holler as one of the walkers grips her arm. She can hear a gasp sound from the outside—but her mind is too focused on being released to have her eyes look out. Lassie gives a hard yank and winces as the arm detaches from the biter and falls to the grass below.

Lassie makes a B-line to the armoury's doors and pushes. "Shit," she spits before whipping her head towards the walkers behind. The doors will not budge. She hits the doors a few more times only to feel her luck running dry.

"Over here!" Lassie's eyes dart to the outside of the fence to see Adrienne rocking the chain links. "Over here!" the woman hollers again. "You filthy bastards; over here!" she calls out only to have Billy and Len repeat her. Suddenly, hollers erupt from the _fellas_ as the biters slowly turn their attentions to them. A car's horn sounds loud and long as the walkers groan and stumble their way to the fence.

Quickly, Lassie makes her way around the building. Her eyes scan up and down the walls looking for an open window or a back door. The only window open is barred off like the rest. Lassie reaches up to the bars and walks her feet up the wall until they place themselves where the iron wrought connects to the wall.

First she tests the spacing, her head fitting through with enough room for her shoulder. Soon enough, Lassie has everything but her hips and left leg through to the narrow inside. She wriggles herself further only to be stopped by a tug on her ankle. Lassie twists her face to look down as a scream flies from her mouth. The girl kicks her leg free only to realize she has put herself in a shark cage.

Lassie grips the bars above her head and lifts her body as much as she can in the narrow space but it is not high enough to get out of the walker's reach. Its head slips through the bars with as much ease as Lassie's. The girl's temples pound with her blood pressure as she steps on the creatures head to keep its teeth from her flesh.

Lassie gives a hard stop down on the crown of the walker's head and it drops to the grass. The girl lowers her feet back to the bars and braces herself on the window in front of her. She was alive. She was not bit. Lassie takes a deep breath.

The open window was not wide enough for her to enter. She winds her foot back and hits it against the glass. A spider web of cracks runs up the glass only to be shattered with a second kick. She jumps into the dark before her mind can think about what might be lurking there.

As Lassie hits the floor her feet echo throughout the space. She takes a step out from the wall; aisles and aisles of shelves stand in view as both protection and hazards. Lassie wipes away her fear induced sweat and slowly gains enough confidence to head further down the rabbit hole.

With her eyes adjusting to the dim lighting, she feels a triumphant smile stretch across her face. There were guns. There were bullets. There was everything a person could ever need to kill a walker in this room, and then some. Lassie lifts a MP5 and gingerly examines it. The last thing she wanted was to waste bullets only to draw more attention to herself.

"Nice," she whispers to herself before lowering the weapon and looking down at a pile of magazines. Some resembled the empty one in her Beretta 9m, but, at this moment, she was only looking. There was no danger as far as she could see and, therefore, she was not going to rush and end up missing something the group could have needed.

"I don't know who you are and I don't care—," Lassie spins on her heels to see a young man holding an M16 fixed on her. "You listen and you listen good," he says with his eyes narrowed and nostrils flared. "I want you out. This ain't your shit. Get out and go find your own," he says through gritted teeth.

"I was just lookin'," Lassie says on a whisper.

"Your time's up—this ain't a museum—," Lassie watches a woman steps out of the darkness. "You either leave or you die," she says with a strained voice.

Lassie's hands rise palms up as she watches the two carefully. "How am I supposed to get out?" she turns her head back to the window. "This place is surrounded—,"

"That ain't our problem—," Lassie eyes dart to the left to see another woman glaring back at her. "You got yourself in; you can show yourself out."

Lassie watches as a new figure steps into view. "She's just a kid—,"

"Shut up, Levi," the first man says with his rifle still on Lassie. "It's your fault she got in here in the first place." The man's face screws up. "I told you to keep the damn windows shut!"

"Grant—," the first woman barks. "This ain't the time for lectures. We've got a bigger problem than an open window here."

"There's a group of 'em," the second woman says. "Mostly men; they don't look too equipped. Probably came here looking for guns."

"We were lookin' for beds," Lassie says with her pitch rising with her nerves.

"I call bullshit," Grant spits as he readjusts his aim on the girl.

Lassie takes a step back before letting out a nervous laugh. "What are you gonna do?" she asks. "Are you really gonna kill me?" Her eyes wince slightly. "I'm just a kid—a girl. I didn't do anything wrong—,"

"You're trespassing," the second woman growls.

Lassie's eyebrows rise. "I didn't know there were people here," she says carefully. Her eyes look to each of the faces before settling onto Grant's. "I just risked my life to get in here. I ain't lookin' to die because of some asshole and his trigger happy friends," Lassie spits out with her nose curling to the words.

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you dropped in—,"

A bullet fires and Lassie's eyes shut tightly as wetness mists onto her face.

"Now that I have your attention—," Lassie eyelids rip open to see Joe standing by the now opened doors. With her eyes lowering to the floor, she sees the first woman on the ground; her head shot and its innards scattered across the floor. "That, by the way, is what it looks like when a person is shot at close range," he says with a smirk as he brings his gun up. "Lassie," he says with his head dipping gently, "come here."

Gingerly, Lassie makes her way around the body and heads to Joe's side. "You three—previously four—idiots should know better than to aim a gun without the intention of actually shooting it," Joe says with an ached eyebrow.

The man places his arm between Lassie and the group. "You should also know better than to aim a gun at my kid," he says lowly. Joe furrows his eyebrows and watches Grant before looking to the shelves of guns. "There are two possible outcomes of this encounter," he says with a nod. His brow rises. "One; we take the guns and leave you three to watch your fourth to rot." Joe nods his head for a second. "Which, isn't really as bad as it sounds when given option number two. We kill the rest of you and keep that there little piece of ass. My fellas have at her like only men can do and we take the guns." He smirks. "Which one is it, guy?"

"Neither," Grant says through gritted teeth.

There is a shot and Lassie jumps with the noise as Grant falls to the floor. Blood taints the man's dirty white shit where the pellets from the shell hit him. He still breaths, but shock makes his body vibrate.

"_That_," Joe says with a smirk, "was not one of the options, mister." Joe takes a few steps until his tall figure looms over his body. He bends at the waist. "Now, don't make me decide for you." He screws his face up for half a second. "Chances are you won't like my choice."

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One**

A holler sounds from Grant as shock is replaced with body chills and pain. Lassie jumps at the noise. Her eyes are wild with fear and panic as the remaining woman is pushed away from him. She didn't mean for any of this to happen; she was going to leave before things could escalate to something like this. Lassie jumps as Grant yells with forced movement from Billy. The _fellas_ were lining the remaining three along the wall.

"Shut the hell up," Joe barks as his eyes catch the light from the windows. "You're going to draw the biters near," he warns as he points towards the now closed door. "In your condition, that ain't something you want to do."

Lassie watches as Adrienne guides the other man away from the body of the woman. For half a second he is willing to follow until his body jolts with a last fight.

"She's dead!" he hollers as spit flies from his mouth. "She's dead!" Lassie cowards at the sudden outburst of the man; he wriggles himself left and right as Adrienne holds him steady. "You killed her!" he hollers as his eyes glare at Joe. "Just shot her right in the head—no warnin'—no nothin'!" The young man shakes his head as his eyes lower on the remains. "Rachel was a good person—she deserved better than some redneck biker shootin' her from behind—," the man's words are cut short as a fist flies into his gut.

"That's enough out of you," Joe spits as the man keels over from his punch.

"Levi, just do what they want," the woman says as she leans on the wall next to the groaning Grant.

"Lassie—," the girl turns to see Joe watching her. He nods his head for her to join his side as he had done moments after killing the woman and before shooting Grant. With her heart heavy, she leaves the two to join Joe. As she passes the young man along the wall, his eyes look down at the body below; wide and frightful.

"She's dead," he whispers before gasping for air. "She's dead," he says again as his eyes rise from the body and land on Lassie.

The girl lowers her chin as her eyes hood over. "I'm sorry," she breaths before escaping his emerald orbs.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," Joe says with his back turning to her. He places a few magazines into his pack and sighs. "They made a mistake; mistakes have consequences. Some people have to learn that the hard way."

Lassie's eyes fall to the floor.

Joe looks to her and shakes his head. "There's a bigger problem that needs to be addressed right now anyway," he says making the girl furrow her brow. "What the hell were you thinkin' running into that field?" he grows lowly. "You could have died—,"

"But I didn't," Lassie squeaks out.

"That's not the point," Joe scoffs. "If you're gonna be with us, you're gonna have to start listening; abiding by the rules," he says. "I don't know how you've survived this long with the way you've been going."

Lassie swallows hard. She survived because she had her own rules; rules she had left behind the moment she saw Merle and forgot to enforce the moment she left Woodbury.

"You don't lie," Joe says with a nod as he drops another magazine into his pack. "You claim what you want—that's the only way you're going to get something." He furrows his brow deeply. "And for you—," he turns his head towards her, "—you stay at my side and only leave it when I say you can. Do you understand?" Lassie turns her head to the side as she looks to the floor again. "I ain't trying to be the bad guy here," he says with a sigh as he goes back to his packing. Lassie's lip press together tightly. He _was_ the bad guy. "These rules are in place for a reason. There aren't many and that's to keep things simple. You follow them and everything'll be fine."

Lassie cups her hands as her hair falls into her eyes. "I don't remember any of those people lyin', Joe."

The man's back straightens. "They were going to kill you, Lassie," he says with his tone softening. "I was protecting you."

"I was fine," Lassie says with her eyes finally lifting to look back at his. "They just wanted me to leave—'n' now look at them; one's dead, the others gonna die, and two people are left to pick up the pieces—,"

"They did it to themselves." Joe shakes his head. "If they wanted to stay alive longer, they shouldn't have camped in here." He lets out a chuckle. "They were askin' for trouble, if you ask me—,"

"I didn't," Lassie spits as she turns her face away.

Joe arches an eyebrow. "Honey," he says with his eyebrows rising, "you got blood on you too." He zips his pack up and swings the strap onto his shoulder. "Like I said before; nobody's innocent anymore."

"Things could've gone differently—,"

"There were infinite possibilities on how this could have ended, Lassie." Joe shakes his head before palming his face. "In almost every single version, at least one person was going to die—more times than not it was going to be you—,"

"They weren't gonna kill me," Lassie nearly whispers.

"How thick is your skull, kit cat? They had a rifle and three pistols aimed at your cranium," Joe says with his brow knitted. "To most people that means death."

"I've had guns aimed at me before," Lassie says. "People get a certain look in their eyes when they're gonna pull the trigger…" Lassie's cheeks pinch up; Joe seemed to have that look every minute of every day. "You killed that woman… and then as if that wasn't enough, you shot the guy too." Lassie shakes her head. "Why give someone more pain than they already have?"

Joe's nose curls up as he looks back at the girl. He takes a huff of a breath and grips his shotgun. "You're right," he says with his eyes narrowing. "I did the wrong thing," he says with a nod. Lassie takes a step back. Joe brings the gun up and steps towards the wall.

"W-what are you doin'?" Lassie pulls at Joe's arm but the man jerks away. "Joe—Joe, what are you doing?" Fear makes her voice tremble and crack.

Joe looks down at Grant as his body sits heavily against the cool wall. As his eyes slowly rise to Joe, they widen and his lips part. Joe shakes his head with a side smirk. "I'm sorry but the li'l lady wants to make things right—,"

"Joe!"

_Bang_. It was solid; the ring only lasted a few seconds, but the screams and hollers that sound from the remaining man and woman afterwards are almost louder than the shell's blast. Lassie's knees give out below her as she looks at the remains of the man's head. Her body shakes as her eyes refuse to look away from the mess. Her legs lie bent beneath her as one hand supports the weight of her body.

"Who's next?" Joe asks as he turns to the girl and the _fellas_ watch silently. "Hmm?" Joe steps towards the woman and grabs her jaw. "What about her, Lassie girl; are we causing her too much pain too? Does she need to be put out of her misery now—shot like a horse with a broken leg?" The woman lets out a groan as Joe holds her jaw tight.

"Stop," Lassie cracks out as her eyes close. This was too much—this was more than murder. "P-please," she struggles.

Joe pushes the woman face back as he releases her. "I have a better idea," Joe says with a grunt as he lifts Lassie to her feet. The girl fights to free herself from him, but he overpowers her with a few jostles. "Now—," Joe forces Lassie's hands onto the shotgun, "—since you're so merciful, kit cat, I'm gonna let you do the deed," he says before gripping his hand over hers on the trigger.

Adrienne takes a step forward. "Joe, that's enough—,"

"I'll tell you when it's enough, sergeant," Joe barks over Lassie's shoulder. The girl turns her head away as the two remaining people watch in terror. "That's no way to shoot," Joe grunts as he forces Lassie to turn her head back. "You gotta have an eye on your target—I thought you were a country girl," he says with a chuckle.

"No!" Lassie growls as she attempts to free herself.

Joe grunts as he holds her steady. He then smirks. "Now, who is it that seems to be in more discomfort than the other?" Lassie feels him shrug. "You're lucky you're on this side of the gun, Lassie. By all means, I think the answer might just be you," he says with a laugh.

Joe furrows his brow. "You've gotta choose because there's gonna be another death. Which one will it be; the fighting young man, or the screaming girl?" Joe aims the gun respectively. "I know," he says with a nod. "I've got a number between one and ten; whoever's closest gets to live." Tears fall from Lassie's eyes as she watches the two. "What's my number?" he asks as he looks to the woman.

"Joe—,"

"I want to know what my number is," Joe says coolly as his eyes briefly touch Adrienne and then go back to the victims.

"Eight," the man says fighting back his emotions.

The woman lowers her head and shuts her eyes tightly. The man reaches his hand out to hers and grips it tightly before the woman lets out a hitched breath. "F-four," she stammers.

Joe narrows his eyes and forces Lassie's hands to aim at the woman. Lassie lets out a scream and fights to knock the aim off, but the shell is shot too soon.

"Kendal!" the man hollers only to feel the warm crimson sprits onto his skin. As his eyes look to her, he turns away quickly with a dry heave. Lassie's legs give out again but Joe is sure to keep her propped up.

"You see what happens when we go down the merciful route?" Joe whispers in her ear. "People die. People _always_ die."

Lassie swallows hard as she looks back at the woman. She forces herself to keep staring even when she knows the image is scalded into her mind. Hatred ruled this world; Lassie saw that now. Hatred and cruelty were the new moral code.

Lassie feels Joe release her and she stumbles.

"What about the guy?" she hears Lou ask.

"Jesus Christ," Adrienne spits.

Joe turns to his men and takes a deep breath. "I don't know," he murmurs before heading out of the building.

Lassie lowers herself to the floor as the others leave her. She wipes at her face only to find blood mixed with sweat and tears. She crawls slightly towards the man and stops abruptly as his eyes dart to her.

Lassie quickly wipes at her face as a new tears trails down her cheek. "Are you okay?" she whispers.

The man raises his chin as he pushes his head back against the wall. "Do I look okay?" he asks with disgust. He lets out something between a sigh and a sob. "My sisters and brother are dead 'cause of you." He narrows his eyes. "Excuse me if I don't really want to be spendin' this time tellin' you if I'm okay or not." The man closes his eyes and takes a shallow breath. "I feel bad for you… really I do… but right now is not the time to talk to me."

Lassie's bottom lip quivers as her eyes fall to the floor. She takes a sore breath and shakes her head. "I'm so… so sorry," she whispers. She didn't know what else to say; what else could have been said? Lassie rises from the ground and steps towards the woman's body propped on the wall. She takes a breath and begins removing her brother's sweater. "I shouldn't have come in here," she says softly before draping her sweater over the remains of the woman's head.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Twenty-Two**

As Adrienne leads the group to the barracks, Lassie keeps her eyes low. Her entire body shakes with fear. She didn't want to look at any of them; she had seen what Joe was capable of doing. She found herself hating him more and more with each step she took at his heels. Lassie quickly wipes at her eyes as tears threaten to fall. She couldn't speak; morbid horror and panic made her voice all but disappear in her tight throat.

This wasn't survival—Joe's group was filled with vile hatred and disoriented rage. Lassie lets out a breath; it was all she seemed to be able to do; breathe. Perhaps it would have been better to have stayed in the floorboards and died.

One by one, they march in the field of biters; they had been stabbed by the group after Lassie had entered the armoury. All of them were either dead or a threat no longer; their legs so battered all they could do was pull themselves with their arms and hope for a meal. Lassie gasps as Len jabs his knife into one of the crawler's foreheads. He lets out a laugh as Billy rolls his eyes.

Upon entering the barracks, Adrienne almost immediately felt at ease; the familiar flat white walls, the linoleum floors that echoed each footstep. She slides her thumbs into her belt loops and sighs. This was as close to home as she could get and, from what she could see, it was safe.

"Not bad?" She looks to Joe as they stand before double doors. Joe looks through the doors and lets out a quiet chuckle as the group stands behind anticipating the view.

"Not bad at all," he says with a smirk and bobbing nod.

The beds were nearly untouched; a few were missing mattresses while others seemed to be fully prepared for a night of rest with blankets and pillows to match.

Lassie takes a timid step forward only to be knocked out of the way by the over anxious _fellas_.

One by one, the men head to the beds calling out their claims; anywhere from mattresses to blankets to even a left behind pair of combat boots that Harley's feet were obviously too large to fit into. Lassie feels herself shrink. She needed to be quick—she needed a bed. A bed would give her the last bit of comfort she could have in this world.

Her eyes catch the final bed and just as she steps towards it, Harley lets out a low, "Claimed." Lassie furrows her brow, but steps away. She couldn't speak. It was like an explosion went off in her and left her incapable of verbal communication. No matter how much she wanted to say something to the man, she couldn't. It was impossible.

Like a wounded animal looking for solace, her eyes land on Joe seeking aid. He stands in the doorway, his eyes narrowed and mouth stuck in a line. He was watching her; making sure she wasn't too well off on this terrible day. It was her punishment and he wanted Lassie to know that. Joe raises his chin slightly as if to warn her of his wrath and then turns away.

The girl lets out a sigh and makes her way down the row of claimed beds and mattresses until she reaches the opposing wall from the doors. Not even Adrienne bats an eye her way. It was all fair game; _claimed_ was the secret word that Lassie seemed to be at a loss for.

She lowers herself along the wall as the _fellas_ get ready for a nice evening of easy sleeping. She wanted to cry but her eyes couldn't muster tears up and her body was too drained to do anything more than silently sit.

Lassie's hooded and pained eyes lower to the linoleum floor; the dark orbs exhausted and lacking the spark they once carried so long ago. Her hand rises for a moment to tuck her hair behind her ears and then it drops to her lap.

"Joe wants to see you in the hall."

Lassie lifelessly looks ahead. Shoes come into view before her; black boots, dirty from wear and indented from the road. There's silence for a moment before the figure lowers into her view. It was Adrienne; her dark hair casted across her forehead and near black eyes widened as if to show concern.

She presses her lips together before taking a quick breath. "It's better to go now than keep him waiting," she says with a hand reaching to Lassie's knee. Quickly, Lassie moves her limb away from the touch before casting her eyes into a new direction. "Don't make this harder than it already is," Adrienne Yorkshire says with a short shake of her head. She rises with a sigh and places a hand on her hip. "He's waiting," she says before leaving Lassie's line of vision.

Slowly, Lassie rises from the floor. Her body is heavy—her legs feel like roots from a tree; each step she takes feels as though she is ripping her feet from the floor they are planted in. The girl takes a shallow breath; the urge to cry is overwhelming with the _fellas_' eyes all watching. Her anxiety rises as one of the men let out a short laugh. She swallows hard as her feet finally reach the opposite side of the door. Lassie had past the barrier of which the _fellas_' eyes could go no further beyond.

At first, she doesn't see Joe. All she takes in is the darkness of the corridor. Windows provided the light in the other room; here, there were no windows, only dim walls and dark floors with a light at the end of the tunnelling hall. Movement catches her eye towards the light in the corridor; Joe leans on the wall as Lou whispers softly for only his leader's ears to hear. Joe furrows his brow with a troubled expression and then nods his head before Lou leaves his side, passing Lassie and headed back through the double doors.

Lassie crosses her arms as a chill settles across her skin. She timidly approaches the greying man and lowers her chin like the submissive dog who tucks his tail between his legs.

"Do you understand why I did that?" he asks with his voice soft yet firm under his bearded face. Lassie remains motionless; her uncertainty paralyzing.

Joe takes a breath and steps out from the wall; the light from the end of the hallway brightening on half his face. "People are dangerous," he says. Lassie bites her tongue for she knew who the dangerous one was. "Those women… that man; they would have killed any one of us." Lassie's eyes hit to the floor between them. "They were going to kill us—they were prepared to do what it took to keep what they had," he says with a nod as Lassie looks up at him. He waves a finger. "But you weren't; in fact, you were the only one not ready to kill."

Lassie looks to the wall beside Joe. None of them needed to die—they weren't going to kill anyone. Lassie could see Joe trying to convince her of his story, but she wasn't sure if it was she who needed the convincing.

"You might think it was cruel of me to have you do it," Joe says with a slow nod. "To kill that woman…" He narrows his eyes. "You ain't never killed someone, have you?"

Lassie feels her lip quiver at the question. She pushes back her hair as it falls into her face.

"It was something you needed." Joe watches her for a second. "You needed to know you could do it because without knowing you _are_ capable you're at the mercy of someone else, kit cat. Just like today."

Lassie's chin lowers to her chest as she wipes at a tears trail on her cheek.

"Aw—," Joe shakes his head as he takes the girl in a hug, "—we're always unprepared for this sort of thing." He holds the back of her head as she sobs into his chest. "Nobody ever wants to do it, trust me, kit cat." Joe shakes his head. "It would take a sick person to wanna."

Lassie turns her face to the side as her cheek rests on Joe. She was confused—whether it was the trauma or his words or a combination of the both; she didn't know what to believe. Maybe she really did need to know she could kill. Maybe it was something she should have done a long time ago. Maybe not.

"You listen here," Joe says as he pulls her away and looks her in the eyes. "As long as you're with me and you do as I say, nothin' like that will ever happen again." Lassie struggles to keep her cry in as she looks back at him. A part of her wants to believe Joe—she wants to believe that the Joe she once knew was still in there somewhere, but the other part told her it was all a façade; the Joe she knew had long left and had no intention of ever returning.

Joe brings her back into his arms. "Ain't nothing like that'll ever happen again while you're with me. I'll protect you; you're mine."

Lassie swallows hard as he blood runs cold. She was _claimed_.

* * *

**Very sorry about the short chapter... but I finished that last line and all I could think was, "Yeah, that's an unsettling thought," and I figured if I added more to this it would take away from the thought lol**

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Twenty-Three**

"It's been three days and he's still here," Adrienne says in a hushed tone. "What are you planning to do with him? You never keep them around this long, Joe."

Joe takes a long drag of his cigarette. He had found a stale pack of Morley in the desk of some office. He gives a shrug. "I think that kid's got some use," Joe blows the smoke out with the words.

Adrienne Yorkshire shakes her head. "He doesn't have anything; no experience with the outdoors, no ideas on how to survive, no proper understanding of firearms—,"

"Yet he's alive and carries a gun." Joe makes a face. "Carried a gun," he corrects. His _fellas_ had taken everything they could get their filthy hands on in the armoury. "Either those siblings of his did a mighty fine job of protecting him or he's holding out on the stuff he knows."

The woman lets out a chuckle as Joe puffs on his cigarette. "You really think he'd lie in his position?" she asks with her eyebrows rising.

Joe's face stretches out for half a second. "Why not; what does he have left to lose?"

"His life—,"

"You know as well as me; life is worth less and less every day. What difference would it make to be killed today by some stranger or turn tomorrow from a biter?" Joe narrows his eyes as he looks down to the wall Lassie sits against. With her feet stretched out in front of her, she stares vacantly at the wall behind him and Adrienne. "The moment you lose those around you that loved and cared for you is the moment you die now. We're all just sitting in our graves waitin' for the dirt to fall on our cold dead bodies."

"You're saying we keep the kid?"

Joe arches a brow. "I'm sayin' he's all right _today_." He takes another drag from the smoke between his index and thumb. "Tomorrow… tomorrow he might not be."

"Hey," Len says as he bats Lassie's knee. The girl simply stares off into nothingness; an expressionless face dulled and damned with acceptance. She was _claimed_. "Check it out," Len calls out turning to the others. "Lassie ain't respondin'," he says with a chuckle before knocking her knee as if to show everyone else willing to look. "Almost like she's playing possum," he says with a laugh before batting at her face.

Lassie blinks with the bat; her dark cold orbs slowly finding their way to Len's face. Len gives another playful smack to her cheek but this time Lassie lunges at him knocking him to the floor and crawling on top.

"Get her off me!" Len calls out but is cut short with Lassie's fist driving into his cheek. He lets out a grunt and attempts to roll her off, but Lassie straddles him and teeters her own weight against his. Laughter sounds around the room as Lassie holds the fighting man steady. Her fist rises again and bashes Len's face making blood sprits from his bottom lip. She continues even when the red taints her knuckles and threatens her vision.

She can hear him grunting and groaning; she can feel his laboured breaths and calls out for help. Lassie face contorts as her hands wrap around the man's neck. In that moment, Len represented every wrong doing, every underestimation, and every berated remark. In that moment, Len was everything she hated. Lassie simply wanted to make him disappear.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Lassie lets out a scream as hands rip her away from the battered face. She claws at the arms and growls like an animal trying to free herself only to receive a jerk from the person holding her.

"What's gotten into you?" The arms release Lassie and turn her around. Sapphire eyes look back at her; familiar eyes—friendly and concerned. She takes a shallow breath as Joe stares back at her. Lassie looks down at her crimson stained hands.

"I'm not yours," she says quietly.

"Excuse me?"

Lassie raises her chin and feels her upper lip curl as Len lets out a whimper. "I'm not anybody's," she calmly says.

Joe releases her shoulders and tilts his head with a curious expression. "What are you talking about?"

Lassie shakes her head and turns partway before lunging back and pushing Joe in the chest. "I don't need you!" she hollers as Joe looks back at her in shock. "I don't need someone protectin' me!" she growls before looking back at the _fellas_ as they gather around the scene. "You think I'm helpless? You-you think I _need_ you?" She shakes her head and chuckles as she tucks her hair behind her ears. "I'll tell you somethin', Joe." Lassie cocks her head at him and narrows his eyes as he looks back. "I ain't standin' here because I'm some parasite lookin' to find a new group to latch on to." Lassie stomps her foot down. "I'm here because I protected _myself_!" She grits her teeth. "I'm still livin'… I'm still breathing. I don't need Papa Joe lookin' out for me—,"

"Don't lie," Joe says patronizingly with a shake of his head. His brow furrows as he raises his chin. "Don't lie, kit cat—,"

"It ain't a lie," Lassie barks back. She takes a threatening step towards him. "You wanna know what I did before runnin' into you, Joe? I was spendin' my days making sure I wasn't gonna die. Before that I was making sure my brother was okay." She shakes her head. "The last person I was actually with… like… almost friendly…" Lassie lets out a breath. "_I_ was protectin' him." Her eyes stay on Joe as she raises her arms. "I'm good on my own," she says. "Don't you start thinkin' you're doing me any favour by havin' me with you. I'm only here to keep your overstuffed ego inflated."

As soon as the words hit the air, Lassie wishes she could swallow them back up and pretend they never happened. A swift hand slaps her across the face. Joe's lips purse for a moment as his eyes wander the room. He couldn't look at her; not like this.

"Get your ass to the hallway now," he orders and Lassie quickly obliges while cradling her cheek. Joe looks to his group as they dodge his eyes. The man had been shamed before the only people who looked to him for guidance.

"Do you want me to talk to her?" Adrienne asks carefully.

Joe throws his hand her way and shakes his head. "This is something only I can deal with," he says through tight lips. "She didn't bite you," he says under his breath as he heads out the double doors before closing them.

Lassie paces the hall; she could run and never look back. She could forget about Joe and Adrienne and the armoury. Lassie palms her face. She could go back to being by her lonesome. She was never good with people anyway.

"You lied." Lassie spins on her heels and sees Joe standing at the doors.

She shakes her head. "I never lied," she says.

Joe takes four long and lazy steps towards her and chuckles. "You said you don't need me—,"

"'Cause I don't!"

He shakes his head with a grin before it drops when his eyes hit her. "You think those men in there would leave you alone if I wasn't here?" Lassie furrows her brow as Joe grips her wrist. "You think they wouldn't put their hands on you?" Joe squeezes her arm and she winces before he tosses it away. "Like it or not, kit cat, I'm protecting you. It's because of me those assholes won't hurt you. It's because of me and Adrienne nobody's been lookin' for you to keep them warm at night."

"I'd kill 'em," Lassie spits.

Joe laughs. "What; you think you could take one of them on? You got Len only because you surprised him. He may be stupid but he ain't weak—,"

"And you think I am?"

Joe shakes his head. "I never said that." Joe narrows his eyes. "He's strong; stronger than you and that's all it takes in this world." He furrows his brow and sucks his teeth. "You're in for a hell of a storm with that li'l stunt you pulled." Lassie takes a shallow breath. The blood on her hands was sticky and made her feel sicker than dog. "You can't go sizin' yourself up when you're nothin' more than a half-pint. In this group, you gotta get along. There is no two ways about it; while you live and breathe, others live and breathe too."

Joe presses his hand to his face and wipes at his brow. "When did you become so violent?" he asks half heartedly. Lassie lowers her eyes. "You were such a caring kid back at the centre; quiet, but not one for fighting—,"

"When did you?" The man gives a smirk at the question. Lassie's eyes shoot to his. "The Joe I knew wouldn't kill people. The Joe I knew would have tried to help those people in the armoury—,"

"That guy's dead."

Lassie scoffs. "So are the girls, but I'm not askin' about them."

Joe takes another step towards Lassie, his figure looming over her as if to intimidate the child she once was. "Let me take a wild guess; you thought when you saw me things were going to be exactly how they were back in Atlanta?" He tilts his head. "That there wouldn't be any changes what so ever because, by the grace of God, I would be spared from the evils of the world, right?"

Lassie lowers her chin and Joe chuckles. "You can't go through nearly two years of this hell and not be a different person than you were at the beginning."

"You can still be _good_."

Joe shakes his head. "_Good_ gets you killed. Being kind and generous is a faster death than the electric chair." He watches her for a moment. "You know as well as me, when you find someone willin' to give something, they're stupid. They're letting their naivety kill them. We're not like that—,"

"I'm not like you," Lassie spits.

"By the looks of Len, Lassie, yes you are." Joe straightens his back. "I'm not protecting you?" Lassie nose scrunches faintly as she shakes her head. "When we walk back into the dorms, I _won't_ protect you." Joe flattens his lips for a half second. "I'll treat you just the way I do with the fellas." He cocks an eyebrow. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

Lassie gives a nod.

"All right," Joe says with a shrug. "Let's go then," he adds as he turns back to the double doors. He holds one open for Lassie to enter and just as he comes in from behind, he calls out, "Teach her, boys!" Lassie spins to him with worry and confusion making her eyebrows rise and cheeks pinch up. "She broke a rule; teach her."

Just as Lassie opens her mouth to question, she keels over with a blow to her kidney. She holds herself for a moment before she grunts with a hit knocking her the rest of the way to the floor. Lassie curls into a ball as shoes and fists pummel her. She lets out a holler and screams before a shoe stomps down on her side. Lassie gasps for air; her lungs wouldn't allow her to breathe.

Joe takes a deep breath as he watches his _fellas_ swarm her like bees to a flower. He winces as Lassie hollers out; to him, that girl was as close to a daughter he could have. Joe clears his throat and heads back out the doors. But like all children, she needed to leave the safety net of her parent.

The man palms his face and shakes his head dully. The men would beat her until she was either knocked out of Joe said so. For Lassie's sake, he hoped one of them would knock her out. The man presses himself against the wall in the hallway and sighs. He didn't know exactly when he turned into the man he was. He just knew that this man knew how to work and sculpt the world around him better. Joe closes his eyes as Lassie's cries echo through the hallway. She would be taught and beg to be protected again; whether she liked it or not.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Twenty-Four**

Merle watches as Daryl narrows his navy eyes. His brother was always a better tracker than him. Daryl's finger rises to point out a small rabbit chewing on bits of grass. Merle's nose curls up; the damn thing was so well blended into its surroundings, he wouldn't have been able to see it had he been three inches from its fur.

"What're you waitin' for? Take the shot," Merle says with slight annoyance as Daryl slowly brings his crossbow up. _Thwick_!

In a heartbeat the animal that once chewed now lies in a ragdoll fashion, a bolt pierced through its fur. Merle lets out a chuckle and smacks his brother's back with a nod. "Good eatin' tonight," he says before heading off to retrieve the game. Daryl sighs and hooks the weapon onto his back; even through everything that had happened, Merle was still Merle.

Tension was still high from their initial reunion back in Woodbury. The Governor had pit them against each other. Just when Daryl thought Merle was willing to actually fight, the man changed the game and the two took off like a bat out of hell.

With the sky dawning its evening wear, Merle sparks a fire while Daryl rolls the rabbit's skin up. His nose curls up with the effort. If the fur touched, it ruined the meat's taste; it was something their father taught them. He sighs and pushes back a handful of hair. Taste didn't mean much now, but his mouth watered at the thought of juicy meat.

Merle snaps the end of a branch and hands it to Daryl after the man is finished with the gutting and skinning. Roasted rabbit was enough to make Merle impatient—anything was, really. In silence, Daryl takes the stick and ties the animal's legs before lining it up with the spit. It was over. There was nothing left to do but watch as the fire crackled and licked their meal.

After a moment of silence, Merle lets out a chuckle. Daryl lowers his eyebrows and looks to the man. Merle shakes his head and rubs his face. Something was funny to him, but Daryl wasn't sure he wanted to know. For a second, his eyes look to his side in search for someone, but find no one. Their sister was always up to question Merle's smirks and giggles.

"'Member that time me and Jess took you campin'?"

Daryl's eyes look to the fire and he gives a bored expression. "Which time?" he asks with a sigh. There were many before Merle started getting heavy into dealing. Him and, their half uncle, Jess would go every summer out to the middle of nowhere surrounded by nothing just to drink their weight in beer and shoot pellets at the birds.

"The first one," Merle says with a low nod and slowly a grin pulls at his brother's lips. "El Chupacabra was there, I believe," he says with a careful enunciation. It was a dangerous topic to touch on with Daryl; dangerous simply because the man had a firm belief of the creature.

Merle lets out a laugh as Daryl palms his face. He couldn't have been much older than eight because Merle was still close with Jess but no younger than five because Merle had already been to juvy a few times.

"It was your fault," Daryl says before shaking his head with a shameful smile.

"I didn't do nothin'," Merle says. "I only told you a story—,"

"To a kid," Daryl defends.

Merle laughs. "It was a good campfire story—,"

"And then you had Jess hang out in the bushes…" Daryl palms his face again as he hums a laugh.

"It's the Chupacabra!" Merle shouts in his best impression of the then terrified little boy. "Get your gun, Merle! He's gonna get us!" Merle curls with his laugh as his eyes close. "Man, that was the funniest shit I've ever seen!"

"Had nightmares for weeks," Daryl says quietly to himself making Merle laugh even harder.

"I had to hide my gun," Merle adds. "I swear to God you would've kill Jess if I hadn't taken that thing away from you."

Daryl smirks and gives a faint nod. "Yeah… I probably would've," he says in a distant voice. The truth was he _did_ end up killing the man… years later, of course and due to the sickness. Daryl readjusts his legs as he looks out to the trees.

"We wouldn't've done it to you if we thought you'd still be lookin' for the goddamn mythical creature."

Daryl narrows his eyes. It was no myth. He knew he had seen one. "I tried doing the same with Lass while you were in the slammer back when she was like… five or six," he says.

"Did it work?" Merle asks with an entertained expression.

"Nah." Daryl shakes his head. "She stayed up all night—not because she was scared… she just wanted to see it," he says.

"Lassie was always into that stuff," Merle says with something making his brow lower; almost bitterness. Daryl nods his head slowly.

"I hate that word," he says softly.

"What; stuff?"

Daryl makes a face at his brother and shakes his head. "No," Daryl says, "_was_."

Merle swallows hard and gives a nod. "Never been a fan of it either," he says after a sigh. "It seems the older I get the more I use it, though."

"Do you think she's really gone?" Daryl asks as his dark sapphires hit Merle.

Merle watches his brother for a moment before shifting uncomfortably. As far as Daryl knew, Lassie could have still been in Atlanta, maybe even alive. The man presses his lips together. Daryl still had hope for that girl.

"I know she is," Merle says before darting his eyes to the fire.

Daryl furrows his brow. "You found her?" Daryl leans with the words and, for a split second, Merle sees the little boy who thought the Chupacabra was after them.

Merle nods. "A few months ago she wound up in Woodbury—,"

"You took her there?" Daryl asks, anger makes the words linger in the air.

Merle's nose scrunches up. "She got there all on her own." The man's eyebrows furrow. "It was before things started getting too crazy," he adds and Daryl rolls his eyes.

After a moment of silence, Daryl presses his lips together tightly. He couldn't ask—it would cause nothing but pain. He swallows hard as his eyes burn. The pain was inevitable whether or not he asked.

"What happened to her?" His voice seems to make the crickets stop chirping. The words give Merle goosebumps up his arms and force a shiver down his back.

"She was bit," Merle says after a pause.

"Jesus," Daryl curses.

Merle's lips purse as he fights back the memory of being told. "She didn't turn," he adds quickly as if the words meant something. He turns his face to Daryl and feels his muscle relax. They _did_ matter; they meant Lassie was still human even to her last waking moment.

_Just stay safe out there_ were his last words to her. Merle shakes his head.

"You would've been proud of her, man," he says with his face contorting as he fights back his sadness. "She was a _real_ survivor—never wanted to be stuck in," he adds before placing his elbows on his knees. "A good li'l leader too." Merle's nose curls up as his breathes become shallow. "She kept this kid alive—three legs between 'em and she managed to keep him alive!" He rubs his hand under his nose and shakes his head. "When I first saw her I didn't even recognize her… she wasn't a kid anymore." Merle's eyes bounce from the fire to Daryl and then back. "Had her hair all short… probably to keep walkers from grabbin' at it." His eyes drop to his shoes and a sad smirk sits on his lips. "She looked a lot like you at that age."

Daryl takes a quick wet breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth in the form of a sigh. It was a strange cry; Merle had never seen his brother be so calm with tears. When a tear trailed down his cheek, Daryl merely wiped it away with little expression other than slight annoyance at the wetness on his palm.

"Must've been ugly," he whispers in a last insult before snivelling.

Merle snorts. "Nah," he says. "She wasn't half bad. Mostly took after Kathy in the looks department."

"Thank God for that," Daryl says before wiping his nose. Merle nods. "I'm glad she made it out of Atlanta," he says and his brother nods again.

Merle grips his brother's shoulder and knits his eyebrows. "I'm sorry, little brother," he says before hooking his arm around the man's shoulders.

Daryl places a hand on Merle's forearm and nods with his hair in his eyes. "Me too, bro," he says softly.

* * *

Lassie stumbles as the group heads down a slick dirt road. It had been pouring for nearly a week straight yet Joe kept them on the move and she swore he was following the clouds. Since telling the boys to teach her, it was like Joe was trying to get as far away from the barracks as possible.

With Lassie's stagger, Levi, without a word, takes the pack on her shoulder and hangs it over his. Lassie's eyes rise to his and then slowly find their way to the ground again. She was getting good at that; keeping her eyes low and safe in the dirt where they seemed to belong.

"Lou said they'll probably call it a night in a half hour," the young man says as Lassie continues at his side. Levi brushes back his maroon curls and sighs as the cool rain pellets his back and face. "Just think how nice it's gonna be to sit down," he adds with a smirk trying to lighten the mood. Lassie shakes her head and winces with the strain on her neck. "Your face is lookin' better," Levi says making Lassie look back up at him before returning her eyes to the dirt.

"I can finally open my eye," she says through a fat lip before pulling her windbreaker's hood up. Adrienne had found the jacket yesterday and offered it to the girl; whether it was out of pity or simply good intention, Lassie was unsure.

"Yeah," Levi says with a nod. "Lou told me—," a finger circles his face, "—was 'cause you broke a rule."

Lassie faintly shakes her head. "I didn't."

Levi furrows his brow and narrows his eyes as he looks to deep grey clouds where the setting sun would have sat. He had only been accepted into the group three days ago. He had so much to learn and so much to understand.

"I guess it doesn't matter now…" He readjusts the pack on his shoulder and twists his head to the side with a sigh. "I still feel bad for you," he says through his thin lips. Lassie blinks at the words but otherwise shows no reaction.

"So do I," she says through the side of her mouth before slipping in the mud. Levi grips her waist and holds her steady as her feet find more stability in the slippery earth.

He shakes his head as she continues their march. "I can't tell if that limp is gettin' better or worse," he says with concern knocking his eyebrows low.

Lassie takes a long breath as they walk in silence. Levi liked to talk; Lassie preferred to be alone in her thoughts. It left breaks in their conversations where Levi couldn't think of anything more to say and pauses where Lassie contemplated on answering him.

"It gets worse at night," she finally says.

"Could be a pulled tendon or ligament… maybe even a fracture," he says before a hum. "Is there bruisin'?" he asks.

Lassie rolls her eyes. What part of her wasn't bruised? Her body was dotted like a colourful Dalmatian; painted black and blue with tints of greens and yellows between. "I think someone must've stomped me," she says through the side of her mouth. The truth was, after the fourth hit, Lassie's body went numb and her memory turned into a blur.

"Was there a crack or sudden pop?"

Lassie takes a deep breath and winces. The only crack she heard was when they stomped her ribs. "No," she says.

"Sounds like a ligament," he says with a bit of a nod. "You need to rest if that's what it is. Your back isn't like other parts of your body. If you hurt it once it's bound to happen again only the next time it'll be easier to put it out."

"Ain't like I did it to myself," Lassie says.

Levi's green eyes watch her for a moment. "Just be careful is all I'm sayin'. Don't put too much strain on it—,"

"And what happens when a biter comes along?"

Levi scoffs and shakes his head. They weren't _biters_; they were spoilers, like rotting food.

"Do I just stick my hands out and tell it to stop 'cause I've got a bummed back?"

The young man rolls his eyes. "If that happens, you pray to God you can get away with that limp of yours," he says.

Lassie lets out a short bitter laugh. Being taken by biters would be better than staying in the group. Turning would be better than sticking around she knew could turn their back on her at any given moment. "There's no God," Lassie says under her breath. Levi furrows his brow and watches her for a moment. She pushes back her hair and wipes the rain drops off her face. "If there was a god, none of this would've happened."

"Maybe it's a test," Levi says with a shrug.

Lassie makes a face. "You think the good lord was testing you when Joe made me shoot your sister?" Levi's eyes lower. "You think the Alpha and Omega was trying your faith when Joe killed your brother?" Lassie makes a face of distaste. "I hope there isn't a god."

Her eyes catch a parked car on the side of the dirt road. Inside, a turned woman claws at the window; her growls and groans heard through the thudding rain. As Lassie looks into the back seat, she quickly shoots her eyes back to the ground. A baby seat was set in the back; blood smeared the window, but no remains of the child were seen. Lassie licks her lips. If there _was_ a god, she hoped he wouldn't let anything like that happen.

Lassie feels something hit her shoulder and she winces with the blow. As her eyes rise to the figure she forgives the damage dealt.

"Man, that guy really doesn't like you," Levi says quietly.

Lassie presses her lips together. "I wouldn't like me either," she says under her breath. Len turns his head over his shoulder and looks towards Lassie before heading off to Harley's side.

"Was that the guy you hit?" Levi asks and Lassie rolls her eyes. Only three days in and he already had all the gossip down. "Fractured cheek bone and possible broken nose," he says as his eyes scan Len's face before wiping the rain off the back of his neck. "I'd hate to make you angry," he says with a bit of a smirk.

"You a doctor or somethin'?" Lassie asks with her eyebrows knitting and cheeks pinching up.

Levi shakes his head. "I was studying to become one," he says. Suddenly, a frown pulls at his lips. "Rebecca knew more. She was already six years deep before this whole thing happened." He takes a breath and slowly lets it out. It was all water under the bridge now. "She wanted to be a neurosurgeon."

Lassie nods. "What did you want to be?"

"A doctor," he says and Lassie arches a brow his way.

"What kind?" she asks; her voice thick with exasperation.

"General practitioner; I figured if I wasn't great around blood or broken bones, I might as well just be a sit in doctor at some old clinic." Levi presses his lips together. "Write out prescriptions and like… look down people's throats and stuff."

Lassie's brow rises. "How are you with blood now?"

Levi scoffs. "'Bout as good with blood as a medic in World War II." The young man makes a face. "I still have my problems." His emerald orbs touch Lassie for a moment. "Grant used to get nose bleeds at least once a week." His cheek pinches up for a moment. "I couldn't watch." His brow furrows. "But, bite marks, shot wounds—depending where they are—anything really that doesn't gush and spit I'm okay with."

Lassie smirks. "So when I came into the room Joe and 'em had you stored in you must've been freakin' right out," she says.

Levi's eyes widen. "I thought you were a spoiler… and then you asked for water." The girl had been tossed into the room with her body bruised and broken. The lower half of her face was drenched in blood that still rushed out. "I'm glad we left that place," Levi says under his breath. Every second spent on that military base tormented him; every corner of that place he had a memory with his siblings. Levi swallows hard. They were gone now and, like Joe told him, he needed to move on. Keep living.

Lassie pushes back her wet hair and sighs. While Levi was seemingly making new friends, she was creating new enemies. Len couldn't go an hour without knocking her in some way and the others seemed to keep their distance from her—even Adrienne. The only person who attempted to be neutral towards her was the man she caused so much pain to.

The girl wipes at her nose and sighs. "Joe said if you don't keep movin' you die."

"Joe can go fuck a goat for all I care," Levi spits. Lassie furrows her brow. The man may have told the _fellas_ to teach her and was the one who intentionally killed Levi's family, but Joe saved her life. He saved her life from before and even now in the after.

Lassie nudges her head as she struggles with her words. "He could've left you," she says knowing it would strike a chord with Levi.

The young man makes a face. "Yeah… but I wouldn't have been in that situation if he hadn't had done what he did."

Lassie gives a faint nod. "You wouldn't have been in that situation if I hadn't done what _I_ did."

Levi makes a face. "You're a kid… a stupid one, but a kid." He shakes his head and grimaces. "That guy is a bad man."

The girl stuffs her hands into her pockets. After a moment of silence between them, Lassie pipes up. "He wasn't always," she says softly.

"You knew him from before?"

Lassie nods her head. "He was a good man… I think he still is… just… it's harder for him to show it."

"Good men don't shoot innocent people—,"

"He thought he was protectin' me—,"

"You don't just go around killin' people—,"

"Your brother was gonna do that to me," Lassie spits out in Joe's defence.

Levi stops in his tracks and stares down the girl. "Grant wouldn't hurt someone unless they were doin' harm. Chances were, if you didn't leave, he would've covered your eyes and drove you far, far away from there." He makes a face. "I can't believe after everything that guy's done to you you're still on his side."

Lassie presses her lips together tightly. There _were_ no sides. How could there be sides when people were unpredictable in the best of situations?

She reaches out to her pack and pulls it away from the young man. "I'm good now," she says as he attempts to take it back. Lassie tosses it over she shoulder with a wince and picks up her limped pace. "And for the record," she says as she looks back at Levi, "I ain't on anyone's side. I can't be… it's too hard to be lookin' after me right now."

* * *

**How'd you like the uber long chapter with a split thing? **

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Twenty-Five**

Lassie lowers to the hay in the barn. The thudding of rain pellets the roof and leaks in on the siding. It wasn't well built, or maybe it wasn't well kempt. Levi looks down at her and nods.

"Not a bad spot," he says with a friendly smirk. Lassie ignores him for umpteenth time. She didn't want to make friends—not again. "Let's see," Levi says as he reaches out at her cheeks. Lassie jerks back and glares back at him. The young man's green eyes lazily look back at her before they roll. "Either way, you're gonna do the saltwater wash," he says and Lassie looks to her feet. At some point during her beating, the frenulum connecting her upper lip to her gums was detached. The saltwater rinse was to keep it from becoming infected.

Lassie watches Levi for a moment before furrowing her brow. "Why are you helpin' me?" she asks with a shake of her head. "What do you get out of it?" Her cheeks pinch up. "It's not like I'm gonna repay the favour. I ain't got anythin' to give you for it." She lets out a scoff. "And it's not like I'm nice to you." Lassie's eyes look into his. "So why bother?"

Levi shuffles his feet for a moment as he feels Lassie's stare burn through him. "We're both alone." He nods his head faintly. "I ain't got family… and by the looks o' things, neither do you." He looks back at her. "I figured we could be allies," he says with a firm nod.

"I already told you, I'm not on anyone's side—,"

"I meant, like… we could look after each other." Levi furrows his brow. "On a physical health level, you ain't doin' too good and nobody's gonna help you if you fall. You're an underdog." He chews his lip for a half second. "I mean, I'm not sayin' I'm completely useless, but my skills aren't exactly expert level. I know that I can't hunt… I don't even think I could kill an animal on my own—,"

"And you think I can—,"

"You killed Kendal."

Lassie's brow rises quickly with the low blow. Her jaw clenches as her eyes drift across the barn. Lou and Joe stood at the far side laughing and joking while Adrienne rolled her eyes at Len's terrible pickup lines. Billy and Harley quietly make their makeshift beds out of hay.

"All I know is that at some point you were on your own and you managed to survive." Levi shakes his head. "At least, that's what they're tellin' me," he adds before rubbing the back of his head. "I ain't never been on my own and I don't ever wanna be." Levi gives a shrug. "So, my solution is to have you with me, because, even if I end up dyin', I'll know I had a fair chance. On my own… the odds are pretty against me."

"The odds are against you no matter what," Lassie spits. "When you think you're safe—when you think nothin' could get any better—that's when you're in danger. You want me with you 'cause it'll give you peace at mind; that'll be a quicker death than anythin'."

"Then tell me how you did it," Levi says as he lowers to a squat.

Lassie arches a brow his way before turning her face away. "You'll either learn it yourself or die." She pushes back her hair. "Just because I happen to still be alive doesn't mean the same tactics will work for you—,"

"But they could help," Levi says with a shrug and Lassie shakes her head.

"Live and learn," she says with a sigh. "You want someone to help you out, go ask Joe. Ask Adrienne for that matter—she was a sergeant before all this. If anythin', she'd know more about this shit than me."

"I want to hear it from you."

Lassie furrows her brow and her lips part. She narrows her eyes and cocks her head. "Why?" Levi makes a face and Lassie leans forward challengingly. "Why take some advice from a kid? You have an entire group of people at your disposal and you're askin' the only kid?" Lassie shakes her head. "Is it because I _am_ a kid—you-you figure that if some _kid_ can do it, you can too?" She pushes herself up from the barn's floor. "You think it's just that easy—a girl can live this long—she can stay alive somehow—why can't you?"

Lassie shakes her head faintly. "You thought watchin' your brother and sisters die was hard?" Her nostrils flare. "If you had been doin' the same shit as any one of us, you'd know that's just a part of life now!" Levi rises with his hands raised as if to calm a nervous horse. "The hardest thing you'll ever have to do is leave someone behind you _know_ could do better!" She shakes her head as the _fellas_ turn their attention to them. "It's easy watchin' people die," she says lowly. "They get shot, they get bit—who gives a flyin' fuck, right? But you leave someone behind—that's cold. That's unforgivable." Lassie stares at Levi for long second as Matt and Merle storm her mind. "But that's how you survive." She turns partway away. "You want some advice; don't get close to people 'cause sooner or later you're gonna have to choose between them or yourself—and God save you if you chose them."

As Lassie heads out of the barn and onto the damp earth outside, she takes a shaky breath. She grips at her chest as her lungs fight for air. Lassie lets out another breath as tears build up in her eyes. She left Merle. She left Matt. Lassie rips her windbreaker's zipper down and pulls at the neck of her t-shirt. Sooner or later, she would be left behind too. Telling Joe she didn't need his protection was to make it easier—to let the pending wound heal faster. When the time came that he had to choose between her and himself, Lassie wanted to make sure he would choose himself without hesitation. In turn, telling him to stop was to ensure she wouldn't be as hurt when he chose. Joe teaching her only secured that the pain would be minimal.

Lassie presses herself against the wall of the barn and slowly slides down. Rain hits her face as she closes her eyes and lets out a long breath. She could leave them all. She could run off and forget about everything. The next group she wound up in would know nothing about her—know nothing about who she was or where she came from. They would just see her and either accept or decline. Lassie pushes herself back up and stares at the open field. By the time someone came out to look for her, she could be long gone. Sure, there were walkers out there, but she had handled them before. Lassie knew how to fight them. She takes a step out and freezes. She could run away and never look back. _She's a professional at that_, Merle's words echo in her ears. Lassie lowers her eyes and furrows her brow with a hard swallow. She could stick it out and wait for them to leave her.

"You okay?"

Lassie snaps her neck to the source of the voice. Adrienne Yorkshire timidly steps towards her. Lassie lowers her chin again and crosses her arms.

"What you said in there… do you really believe it?" Adrienne asks with concern making her brow knit. Lassie shrugs. Adrienne pauses for a second as her eyes scan the girl's face. "Because from what I can remember during our short time together, I told you we needed to keep together."

Lassie's eyes wince.

"I remember telling you that those you would meet after our split would be the closest thing you'd have to family. Treat them how you would want them to treat you—,"

"Yeah, well, that goes in one ear and out the other when people start treatin' you like crap."

Adrienne takes another step forward. "Do you think we're going to leave you?"

Silence invades their conversation. Lassie's arms drop to her side as she looks back at Adrienne. "What's stoppin' you?"

"Jesus Christ, Lassie, you're a part of our group—,"

"For how long—,"

"You're family. Nobody in their right mind will let you go without a fight—,"

"I'm pretty sure Len would," Lassie says with a shrug and her eyes distant. "Joe would—,"

Adrienne cocks her head and looks down at the girl. "You really think that man would let you go?" She reaches out to the girl's shoulder only to have it knocked away. "Hey," she says as she grabs bother Lassie's shoulders firmly. "He might be mad at you right now… but that doesn't mean he would leave you behind. Like you said, it's cold and unforgivable. Joe is anything but."

Lassie scoffs. Joe _was_ cold and unforgivable, but Lassie knew she had been the one to make him that way towards her. She looks to her feet and sighs.

"I _know_ you're not being left behind. Do you know why?" Lassie's eyes slowly look back at Adrienne. "Because I won't let them—," the words are cut off by a blood curdling scream. Lassie winces as Adrienne's fingers dig into her shoulder.

"Help!" Lassie hollers as Adrienne screams again. A walker gnaws on the woman's shoulder repeatedly. As it pulls back, muscle stretches from Adrienne to the thing's teeth. Quickly, Lassie pries the woman's fingers away and pushes the walker back. As it falls to the grass, Lassie lifts her foot and grunts as she stomps the monster's face in.

As Lassie turns back to the woman, her body shakes. With the drop to her knees, Adrienne reaches out to the girl; her eyes wide with fear and breathing hitched. Lassie applies pressure to the wound with her bare hands and calls out once more only to be cut short with the appearance of Joe and Lou. The two men stand four feet away; Lou's eyebrows knitted with sympathy as Joe's hands drop to his sides lifelessly.

"What the hell happened?" Joe asks as he lowers to Adrienne's side. Lassie attempts to speak but the woman's gurgling cut her off. Joe pushes Lassie's hands away only to have blood ripple down the woman's shoulder and onto the wet ground below.

"I'll turn," Adrienne manages out as Joe compresses her wound. He shakes his head and looks for his words. "I'll turn," Adrienne warns again. Her hand rises to Joe's and she nods her head as the man's eyes hood over.

"I don't-want-that," Adrienne says firmly through her struggled breaths. She reaches out at Joe's holstered pistol and he takes it. "Please," she whispers as tears build in her eyes.

Joe pets the woman's hair and looks down at her sweetly. Adrienne gives a sad smile as Joe leans over her and kisses the top of her forehead. "You'll let me know what it's like on the other side as soon as you get there," he says with a nod as he looks down at her. Adrienne gives a rigid nod.

_Bang_!

Lassie jumps at the gun's sound and everything slows down; almost to a complete halt. Her eyes take years to shoot to Adrienne only to see the enter and exit wound of the bullet running from her chin and leading to the top of her head. It takes dead near a millennium for her to look at Joe as he man yells something—the words filled with anger—as he rises from the ground and turns his attention to the thief of the moment.

Lassie jumps up as Joe takes three hard steps on the ground towards the invader and aims his gun. The girl screams as she sees Levi standing with his own gun still drawn. He killed Adrienne. Lassie races to Joe and pushes the man making his pistol fire out at the field. Lassie then darts to Levi's side and grabs his arm; she uses all of her strength to budge the young man. When he finally moves, Lassie grips his hand tightly with each pained step she takes leading him away.

Death was inevitable; Joe shooting at them as they ran away was just the same. The bullets seemed to make time speed up; Lassie all too aware of her senses. Every rain drop felt like a rock, the tightening grip of Levi's hand felt as though he was on the verge of crushing her bones, and every blink she made caused the world around her to brighten with unnecessary colour. Levi smirks despite his fear. He made Joe feel pain—the same pain Joe had caused him upon their meeting. An eye for an eye; there was justice.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Twenty-Six**

Lassie stumbles as Levi pulls her forward. She was tired—with the lightening of morning, her eyes seemed to feel heavier than ever and her muscles only wanted to lie still. Lassie gasps for air as Levi places her arm around his shoulders for support.

"I think they're gone," he rushes out between his own laboured breaths. Lassie winces as her back aches with her new supported walk.

"They'll keep lookin'," she says as she looks out to the field. Joe wouldn't let it be easy for them—not after what Levi did. Suddenly, Lassie blood runs cold. She recognized the field they were in.

"I don't know where to go…" Levi presses his lips together as the rain continues to fall. "I don't see anywhere."

Lassie lets out a breath and lowers her chin slightly as the hollers of Matt scream through her cranium. "I know a place," she nearly whispers in an attempt to silence the memory.

The last time she had been in this field, _she_ had been the one supporting someone on her shoulders. As they make their way, Lassie's eyes stay fixed on the ground before her. Every step they took, terror made her breath a little harder, made her heartbeat quicken, and skin feel like bugs crawled just below the surface.

"Right here," Lassie says with a strong nod as her feet stop.

Levi furrows his brow as they stand before nothing but grass and earth. Lassie takes back her own weight as the man gingerly helps her bend. As she reaches down, she pulls a handle which, in turn, lifts a small door. Lassie swallows hard as blackness stares back at her below.

"What's down there?" Levi asks but Lassie shakes her head as her eyes close for half a second.

"It's a place to hide," she says before using him to help her down the first few steep steps.

Between his hesitation and fear of Joe's group, Levi cautiously follows her down. As his head reaches just below the ground above, he stops abruptly. Moaning sounds further in. Levi shakes his head and grips Lassie's forearm.

"It's okay," she nearly whispers. "It can't hurt us," she adds before reaching up and pulling the door shut.

* * *

"It's okay," Daryl says with a nod as Lassie reels her hand back from the animal's fur. "It can't hurt us," he adds with a bounce on his knee making the little girl rise and fall on his lap. "He's muzzled," he says in her ear. "This one can't bite you." Lassie's chin lowers as she watches the dog lazily lower itself to the floor of the kitchen. Daryl places a hand on the eight year old's shoulder as his mouth twists with her discomfort. It had only been a week since Jess' dog bit her. Maybe he was wrong in trying to get her back to loving dogs so soon.

Lassie twists herself towards him and shakes her head hesitantly. "I don't like him," she says softly as if the dog would be offended with her words.

Daryl furrows his brow and purses his lips. "Why not?" His eyes scan the mutt; the floppy ears were harmless, his sad brown eyes were cute enough, and his old age made it almost impossible for him to get away from even a baby's pet.

Lassie shakes her head and slowly pushes herself off of his lap. "I wanna go home," she says before slipping behind him and holding his arm.

Daryl takes a deep breath. Had he been Merle, Lassie wouldn't have left without giving the damn dog a good petting. He nods his head as Lassie looks at the dog with a troubled expression. "Not ready," he says with his nose cringing to the words and the little girl nods. "Okay," he says before rising from the floor. He takes the child's small hand and heads to the door of the humble home. Just as Lassie slips her shoes on, Daryl lowers himself to her height.

"You know, Lass," he says as her dark eyes look back at him. "When I was about six or seven, Merle had a cat." Daryl gives a side smirk as Lassie's eyes widen.

"What was her name?" she asks.

"Cupcake… and she was a he," he says with a stifled chuckle. By the time Merle had found out the cat was male; he had already grown too accustomed to the animal's name. "Anyway, one night before bath time, I decided to bring Cupcake with me." He presses his lips together before raising his eyebrows. "Cats don't like water," he says and Lassie gives a shake of her head. "I didn't know that."

"What happened?" Lassie asks.

"I tossed him in thinkin' he'd get about as clean as me." Daryl gives a long blink at the memory. "That cat shot out of the tub like bullet. Before he made it past me, he must've ran right up my face 'cause by the time he was gone, there was blood everywhere." Lassie lips part with her heart dropping. "Merle came running in when I started screaming. Found me buck naked crying about how Cupcake scratched me." Daryl cocks his head. "You wanna know what Merle did?" Lassie nods slowly. "He got me dressed, cleaned my face, and then searched the entire trailer for the cat. When he found Cupcake, he made me hold him." He scoffs. "Said that if I didn't do it right then and there, I'd never do it."

"Did you hold Cupcake?"

Daryl gives a nod. "I didn't want to. I yelled at him and told him he was a bad cat and that he needed to have baths to keep clean like everyone else—but I did end up holdin' him." Daryl places his hands one the girl's shoulders. "You like dogs?" Lassie nods—the question needn't asked, Daryl knew his sister better than himself at times. "You afraid of 'em now?"

Lassie hesitated before giving a ginger nod.

"I'll tell you what," Daryl says as his eyes look back over at the lazy dog. "If you go up to Duke and just give him one good pet, you won't be afraid any more."

Lassie looks down at the stitches in her arm. "What if he bites me?" she nearly whispers.

Daryl shakes his head before letting out a laugh. "Lass, if he rolls over, I'd be shocked," he says. "He ain't gonna bite you."

Lassie's eyebrows invert before she takes a timid step back towards the animal. In her head, Duke wasn't some mutt; he was a great a terrible bear ready to finish the job Jess' dog couldn't finish. Her knees buckle as the dog lifts his head at her approach.

"It's okay—," Lassie looks up to see Daryl standing beside her, "—I'm here," he finishes before taking the little girl's hand in his.

As her hand reaches out and touches the fur behind the dog's ear, Duke's tail happily wags and Lassie lets out a giggle. It doesn't take long for the child to pet the dog's belly and with confident, easy strokes. Daryl smirks; she wasn't afraid of dogs.

* * *

"I thought you couldn't kill," Lassie says as they stand in the cellar.

"Keep it down," Levi whispers with urgency.

"It's sound proof," Lassie says with a roll of her eyes.

"How do you know?" Levi asks; his voice filled with annoyance.

Lassie furrows her brow and looks up at the familiar ceiling. "Two layers of drywall," she says with a nod. "You can tell by how low the ceiling comes," she adds. Lassie makes her way to a cabinet and crouches down as she looks through the contents. Everything seemed relatively untouched—strange yet comforting to Lassie.

"You could scream and scream all you wanted down here… ain't nobody gonna hear you," she mutters as her hand skims over a scalpel.

"I had to do it," Levi says before a deep breath.

"That wasn't your call," Lassie says as she rises with a bottle of pain killers in her hand.

"Considering the circumstances, I'm pretty sure it was." Levi leans on the wall and furrows his brow as Lassie pulls on the pull string of a light. "I doubt this place has power—," Levi's eyebrows invert as the cellar lights up.

"There's a generator a little further north that hooks up here," Lassie says with a shrug. If the _doctor_ felt particularly trusting, he would have Lassie come with him to fuel the generator.

Levi takes a step and furrows his brow. A gurney sits just before Lassie; dried brown blood stains the mattress as a tray of dirty tools sits on a stand at the side. With little reaction, Lassie makes her way to the opposing wall; cupboards sit above counters with an old rusted sink.

Levi swallows hard as Lassie searches through the cupboards and the moaning continues. "What is this place?" he asks in a careful tone.

"A cellar," Lassie says with a shrug.

The young man shakes his head slowly as Lassie tosses a water bottle his way. "How do you know where everything is?" Levi asks as he examines her carefully.

Lassie narrows her eyes at him before turning back to the cupboard. "I don't think we know each other well enough for me to be comfortable with tellin' you," she says.

"Apparently," Levi says in a tone that makes Lassie snap her face back to him.

"What's that s'posed to mean?"

Levi shakes his head. "I thought you weren't gonna choose sides," he says in an attempt to sway the conversation.

Lassie gives another shrug. "What you did was dumb," she says. "I've done a lot of dumb things in my life—but that stunt you pulled…" She shakes her head. "That was beyond stupid." Lassie hops onto the counter and sits with her back against the low, shallow cupboards. "The way I saw it, I had two choices; let Joe kill you or save your ass."

"I thought Joe was a good guy—,"

"He is… but you killed a part of his family."

"As he did me—,"

"But Joe ain't like you, now is he?" Lassie barks back and Levi nearly tells her to keep her voice down again. "You waited… he wouldn't've." Lassie palms her face and sighs. Adrienne was dead. "Besides… like you said; I ain't got anybody. If you were gone… I'd be completely by myself."

"I'm sorry…" Levi says in a gentle whisper. "I mean… I don't know what the relationship was like between you and…" he thinks for the name, "Adrienne… but I do know you and her had some kind of bond."

Lassie shakes her head and looks back at him. "She was good as dead the moment the walker got her." She chews her lip for a moment. "What you did was a mercy killin'." Lassie shrugs once more. "Not even close to murder."

Levi lets out a breath and his shoulders relax. Lassie smirks at the sight. The only person she had known to be relaxed in this place was the _doctor_. She presses her lips together and crosses her arms. Levi _wanted_ to be a doctor.

Lassie drops to her feet. "There should be a cot behind that door over there. Go get some sleep," she says. "The moanin' ain't somethin' to worry about… if it bothers you, I'll show you in the mornin'," she adds as her hand rubs the back of her neck.

Levi looks to the door and cocks his head. "Have you been here before?" he asks already knowing that she would have had to been.

The girl gives a shallow nod. "Under different circumstances," she says lowly before heading to the crawl space under the stairs. Levi watches as she pulls some blankets out and shuts the door. "It's a place where nightmares are born," Lassie mutters.

Levi nods and idly stands before he heads off to the door. As he opens it, sure enough, a cot sits along the wall freshly prepared. He turns back to Lassie. "Where are you gonna sleep?"

Lassie's eyebrows rise and she shakes her head. "I'm not gonna sleep," she says. "Someone's gotta keep watch," she adds and Levi heads into the room before shutting the door behind him.

As silence fills the basement, Lassie makes her nest. Even if she had the choice of sleeping, she wouldn't. The walls that surrounded her only echoed screams and villainous acts. However, if she was going to be awake, she might as well be comfortable.

Lassie tosses one blanket on the cold cement floor and then wraps herself in the other like a burrito. She takes a deep breath and lowers herself to her nest. It was almost like camping; it was cold and damp—there were no bugs or wind—but it was _almost_ like camping.

Her eyes fixate on the gurney under the pull light. It felt like it was just the other day she watched Matt lie on that table. She tears herself from the sight and looks to the drain hole in the floor. Countless times that drain was stained red—only to be washed away with a hose. Lassie hoods the blanket over her head and closes her eyes.

This place had burnt the scent of iron into her nose. It made her mouth water with a metallic taste; every ounce of her body felt heavier than it had ever been. If Joe and his _fellas_ were looking for them, this would be the last place they would ever find. Lassie's eyes open as the moaning's volume rises and falls. Nobody would ever _want_ to find this place. It was a cruel joke the universe seemed to want to play on Lassie that _this_ of all places was where she would wind up coming back to.

* * *

**I'm not sure when the next chapter will be published. I'll be moving in the next little while and it might be difficult between unpacking and getting used to the new place to find time for writing. My apologies in advance!**

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Twenty-Seven**

Lassie jolts her head up as noise above sounds. There was nothing more terrifying than hearing noises when one was hiding. She hoods the blanket and takes a deep breath. The cellar was sound proof—by contrast, she shouldn't be able to hear things above outside.

She swallows dryly as hollers sound. For a moment, Lassie's legs tense and ache to run, but she holds her ground. She remains in the cellar in her nest of blankets. The young woman holds herself as she hears feet trample over the door above. They were hot on their trail—Joe's group. It had to be them—that gruff voice calling out in fits of anger—the heavy stomps of tired legs. Lassie takes another deep breath and closes her eyes tightly.

No one would find them. The door was only visible to someone looking.

Lassie's eyes rip open. _They_ were looking.

She rises quickly from the cement floor and paces silently. Should she wake Levi—should she warn him that they may die tonight?

Lassie stops abruptly as the hollering muffles and the steps above weaken. _They_ were gone. She and Levi were safe again; for how long, however, was unsure.

* * *

Levi slowly rises from the cot with a roll and groan. It had been a terrible sleep; each moan coming from the outside he rose like a white hot bullet. Every noise—as small as a mouse's footstep to as big as Lassie settling in—jerked him out of sleep and ached his bones with the thought of Joe and the _fellas_ hot on his trail.

"You know how people say it can always get worse?" Lassie asks as she turns her head to Levi as he leaves the bedroom.

"Yeah," Levi says with a nod as his eyes hit her. There was no context; no way of knowing where the conversation was headed. All Levi knew was that the certainty of her words—the dry coldness of her voice—it wasn't going to go into a happy go lucky direction.

Lassie's lips purse for a moment. "I knew this kid… he was a good healthy guy, right? One day he wound up here and suddenly he just wasn't healthy anymore. Shit was bein' done to him." She makes a face. "Mental things… physical things. The man who used to live here wasn't good by any means." The young woman eyes up the only door that had not been open in the cellar. "Anyway, one day the kid ends up being woke up by the guy hackin' at his leg." Levi's eyes widen and jaw slacks. "He screamed and hollered and…" She shakes her head. "We found out why the doctor had us here," she nearly whispers. "He was testing us… checkin' to see what we could handle and if we would be good donors."

"_Donors_?"

Lassie makes a face. "Matt, the guy I knew, was a pretty strong runner—the only problem was, the doctor had already used someone else's legs." She makes a face and scoffs with her stretch. "I guess he just figured having three was better than two, right?" Levi's stomach drops. "I don't know… maybe he was gonna go for four if the third took," she adds with a shake of her head and a shrug.

"In a sick turn of events," Lassie continues, "this _doctor_ was creating his own monster while the world went to hell in a hand basket." She swallows hard and furrows her brow gently. Lassie hadn't even spoken about this with Matt.

"One day, he brings his creation out to show us. He was all proud like what he did was making a difference on the world. It was a six footer; almost hit the beams above our heads when he came in," the words flow out of her mouth with such ease she finds it hard to stop. "If you thought Frankenstein's Monster was in anyway scary… you have no idea of the terror that came over me and that kid." Lassie shakes her head as her eyes fall to the cement floor. "A leg—Matt's leg—sat where the thing's arm was supposed to be. It bent and moved like a leg should… just… not where it should've been."

"Sweet Jesus," Levi curses.

"I don't think Jesus was here that day," Lassie says with a bitter smirk. Levi furrows his brow and attempts to bring a sympathetic hand to the girl's shoulder, but Lassie shakes it off. "I don't need condolences; that's not why I told you… I don't need you to say what he was bad and that he shouldn't have done it. I already know that stuff… I ain't even mad about it anymore." Lassie takes a deep breath. "I guess I'm just ready to have someone else know about it… ready to talk about it, you know?"

Her brow knits for half a second as her mind wanders to Matt. Was he still alive? Did he tell Merle about their situation? She shakes her head as she comes back to the moment. "What's behind the door is something I _never_ wanted to see again." Lassie's nose curls up and then she relaxes. "But it never did anything wrong…"

Lassie rises from her nest of blankets and sighs as her hand reaches out to the door. A few aggressive moans sound out before she turns back to Levi. "It's okay… it can't hurts us."

Levi takes a quick gulp of air and as the door opens, Lassie stares the thing right in its milky eyes. Levi's first reaction is to run, but Lassie grips the young man's wrist before he can dart.

"I want you to look at his face," she says in an unusually calm voice. "I want you to memorize every cut, every groove, and every patch of skin on his flesh," she says. Levi attempts to shake her off.

"The hell's wrong with you—,"

"Look," she says in a low tone. Levi forces his eyes to climb the figure. "See his mouth?" she asks softly. Levi nose curls with disgust as the walker stands swaying side to side like a docile puppy. "He has no teeth."

Lassie releases the man and keeps her eyes on the walker. "He can't bite," she adds before furrowing her brow. "He can't even scratch you if he wanted to—which he doesn't. After the mouth has been fiddled with, they lose interest in huntin'." She purses her lips for a quick second. "But his fingers are cut to the first knuckle. This guy can't harm you… he was a creation for the doctor made by the doctor."

"Why?" Levi asks with his eyes wincing.

Lassie turns to him. "So he could live," she says softly. "Other biters don't seem to notice you when you've got one of them by your side." She shrugs. "Might be the smell or maybe they just think because that one ain't comin' after you they won't either." The young woman presses her lips together. "He called him Mort."

"Like Morton?"

"Like Mortuary," she says with a thin wry smirk.

Levi furrows his brow and takes a step back. "Why show me?"

"We could use him," she says.

"I don't want him with us—,"

"I do," Lassie says with her arms crossing. "I ain't goin' out there without some kind of protection, Levi," she adds. "I've been alone before. It's hard… even harder when you find yourself in the middle of a herd headed your way with nowhere to hide." She looks back to the creature and sighs. "He could be our protection."

"We don't need it—,"

"Look at us," Lassie bursts out as her arms drop to her sides. "Some guy who has no experience on his own and some kid whose luck's about to run out." She narrows her eyes. "Not to mention; we've got some enemies lookin' for us. We're bound to wind up dead sooner or later and I would most definitely prefer later—and Mort here will help with that."

"What happens if we run into Joe and the others?"

Lassie furrows her brow. "We won't—,"

"What; am I just s'posed to go off on your gut feelin'?"

"I heard them pass a few hours ago while you were sleepin'," Lassie says. "Must've been headin' towards the west." She nods her head slowly—calmly. The reality was, her heart pounded and throbbed in the back of her throat when one of them hollered something about footprints. She prayed to whatever god there was that they would keep going. "They were none the wiser even when their shoes hit the door," Lassie adds with ease.

"Why don't we just stay here then?" Levi asks with a shrug.

"You either keep movin' or you die," she says through gritted teeth.

"Why; you gonna kill me now?"

"It won't be me… but I will leave you."

"I thought that was cold and unforgivable," Levi says with a cocked head.

Lassie nods. "I never said I wanted to… I just said I would." Lassie steps into the small room with the modified walker and reaches to a chain hanging on the wall. As she lowers it, Levi's eyes follow the links to a makeshift collar around _Mort_'s neck. "I'm goin'," she says with her eyebrows raised. "I ain't stickin' around here long enough to have someone find me. There's a reason why I'm alive and your family isn't."

Levi gives her a long blink. "That was uncalled for."

"It's true though. Don't they say the truth hurts?"

Levi shakes his head. "It was your fault."

Lassie shakes her head. "Everything is _my_ fault." She guides the walker out of the room and, sure enough, the thing's head nearly hits the beams above like Lassie had said. "If I allowed every little thing that was caused by me to bother me like it should… I'd have no hair right now. I'd probably be in the corner of some walker infested gas station cryin' my eyes out about how I can never do anythin' right." Lassie shakes her head before giving a slow nod. "I would have done that before—but I've learned you have relentless in this place. You can't let someone's death hurt you." She shrugs. "But I'm leavin'. Are you stayin' or comin'?"

* * *

**It's a short chapter and for that I am sorry. I know I've kind of fail wonderfully at updating this lately, but as I stated before I was in the midst of moving out and now that I am settled updates should be more regular and frequent. **

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Twenty-Eight**

"I never wanted it to come down to this..."

Dean winds back his shovel and takes a deep breath as he looks down at the woman he wished to grow old with once upon a time.

"Daddy!"

"Get back, Amanda!"

"But that's mommy!" a little girl sobs as an older boy holds her away from the scene.

The boy shakes his head. "She's not mom anymore—,"

A growl sounds off from the body bellow Dean. He looks down at the woman and then back to the children.

The little girl twists her shoulders trying to free herself from her brother's arms. "She's still mommy, Zack!"

"Amanda, that's enough!" Dean glares at the small girl. Suddenly his light eyes soften. Amanda was not just another survivor; she was a little girl—his little girl. His jaw clenches as he rips his eyes from his daughter. She was still a child; she still believed in the tooth fairy and Santa Claus. Dean takes a shallow breath. She still believed in the boogieman.

"Zack," Dean says before a pause. "I want you to take your sister for a walk." The little girl starts fighting back her brother's arms. He gives a gentle smile to the little girl as his foot sits on the chest of body below him. "Go look for that apple tree we saw yesterday."

"I want to stay with mommy!" Amanda screams.

"Amanda!" Dean pinches the bridge of his nose with his patience wearing thin as the walker below growls and claws at his show and jeans. Reasoning with a distraught seven year old was the least of his concerns right now. "Listen to me." He shakes his head. "Go with Zack. Things will be all right."

"But dad," Zack says as he takes a step towards the man. His eyes lingering a little too long on the woman he called mom only a few short hours ago.

"Hey—," Zack's eyes shoot to his father's, "—you look at me," Dean says with a dip of his head as sweat beads on his forehead despite the autumn chill. "It's all right. Just do what I told you to do. You got that? You can handle that, right bud?" Dean asks with a calm smile and scared eyes.

Zack furrows his brow and nods slowly before forcing his sister to follow him.

Dean takes a deep breath and swallows hard as his children leave him. He presses his lips together tightly. In the beginning he didn't think he had it in him to do this. Now, with his children so close, he knew he had to do whatever it took to keep them safe. It was his duty. He owed their mother that much.

"I'm so sorry, Gail."

Zack holds his breath as the sound of metal hitting meat rushes through the open space. He rushes his sister out into the trees and continues to hold that breath until he no longer wants to cry. He always felt like crying these days. Every ounce of him wanted to collapse on the ground and find refuge under a rock. He didn't want to live like this. He takes a new breath as his sister lets out a wail. Even she knew what was going on. Or, she knew enough to know she didn't like it. Nobody wanted to live like this—not even Amanda

* * *

"Don't shove him like that," Lassie barks out as Levi pushes the walker hard in the back.

"What does it matter?" he asks after a moment.

Lassie shakes her head. "Have some respect for the dead," she says softly. Even to her own ears it sounded like a crazy person speaking. "I mean—," she shakes her head, "—just because he ain't alive anymore doesn't mean you can just do what you want with him."

"You're the one using him to keep us safe—,"

"That's different," Lassie shoots. "I'm not hurtin' him—,"

"And I am?" Levi's eyes wince. "These things don't feel pain, Lassie. You've seen them keep moving after they've been shot. Nothin' natural does that—,"

"Don't matter. Be respectful," she says before gripping the chain out of his hands. "He's keepin' us safe; the least we can do is keep him from going through more shit."

Levi rolls his eyes and takes a long breath. Since leaving the cellar, Lassie and him couldn't hold a conversation without it going sour for more than two minutes. He lowers his chin and purses his lips. The words spoken in that dark dank place still rang in his ears like a cathedral bell. They were loud and crisp; they cut deep and still bled. His family was dead and Lassie was alive. She was right; they needed to keep moving.

"We should probably head north," Lassie says with a nod before turning back to see Levi kicking at the gravel path they follow. "The biters might have a chance at freezing up there with the winter and all—,"

"And then wait 'til summer for them to defrost and come back with an even worse appetite?" Levi asks under his breath.

Lassie furrows her brow. Mort takes a wobbly step towards the right—a little too close for Lassie comfort, but she maintains her ease and calm. "Why are you so bitter?" she asks as her head turns over her shoulder to look at Levi. The young man makes a face. "Ever since you shot Adrienne… you've been nothing but a bucket of worms." Lassie shakes her head before brushing her hair out of her eyes. "You always got a problem," she adds. "Would be kind o' nice if one of these times you opened your mouth and had something good to say."

"Well, you're a joy too—,"

Levi jumps towards Lassie and brings the girl down to the ground with him as something whizzes past their heads. After three more swift noises, their walker falls to the ground beside them; his milky eyes wide open but cranium shattered with a bullet.

"They're there!" a voice hollers; it's shrill and young.

"Just keep calm!" another calls back; aged and masculine. "Take your sister back!"

Lassie pushes herself up from the grass; her belly still lying low. In moments like these, she would have run. She would have left Levi to fend for himself and never looked back to make sure he made it out alive—not until Lassie knew she was safe first.

"What do we do?"

Lassie dark eyes catch Levi but her ears have yet to catch up to speed. She looks back at him wildly—almost like a scared cougar.

"What do we do?" Levi repeats and Lassie blinks.

She can hear their intruder approaching. Lassie licks her lips and shakes her head dully. "Hide," she nearly whispers. The words are so soft yet once they leave her lips, Levi worms his way through the grass to behind a tree.

Lassie swallows hard and begins to army crawl—where; she's unsure. Their intruder has a gun; that's all she needs to know in order to understand she needs to get away. Just as Lassie reaches a bush, something grips her ankles and pulls her away from her haven. She doesn't scream even though her fear is at its peak. It is an understanding fear; the kind that comes with acceptance. Lassie feels the intruder turn her from her belly to her back. They were ice blue eyes that looked back at her in the morning sky; those eyes were what made her accept her fate. Lassie was prepared, even when Levi was not.

"You're just a kid—,"

"Leave her alone!" Lassie sits up quickly as Levi charges out from behind his tree. A part of her wants to scream stop—but she couldn't. It was too late. Just as Levi took his fourth step, the intruder's gun went off for a fifth time resulting in Levi taking one final step before falling to the ground face down.

The blue eyed intruder then turns back to Lassie. Her own heart pounding but, no matter how much she wanted to, she just couldn't find the energy to cry for Levi's death.

"You're just a kid," the man repeats.

Lassie turns her head to Levi and then looks back up at the man. "So was he," she says breathlessly.

Lassie reels her knees up as the man falls to the ground; his hands cup his face as his shoulders bounce with his sobbing. The young woman's eyes look to Levi's corpse and then back to the man. He was broken. Lassie sits up and gingerly makes her way closer to him. He was broken just the same as her.

"You're okay," she says softly; her eyes hooded and brow knitted.

"Dad—," Lassie's eyes shoot out to the gravel path and see a little girl and boy standing twenty feet from them. Lassie's lips part as her heart drops.

"Nobody has to know," she says quickly with her voice wavering. Lassie's blonde hair brushes her shoulders as she shakes her head. "I won't say anythin'." Lassie presses her lips together as she looks back to the children. "You have to get up, though," she says softly. The man's light eyes look to her. "Or else they'll think something's wrong." Lassie feels her chin dimple with her urge to cry. "They don't need to be afraid of their daddy." Lassie takes a shaky breath and lowers her chin slowly. "Ain't nobody should be."

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Twenty-Nine**

"I just shot him—didn't even ask a damn question—,"

Lassie shakes her head as she walks with the man towards the children. "We were with a walker. You thought we were one of those things—anybody would have shot—,"

"He was just a kid," the man says lowly as he twists his face away.

"During that time, nobody knew—,"

"I should have," the man says bitterly.

Lassie stops abruptly as the little girl races and then embraces the man. "I was scared, daddy," the little girl says in a whimper. Lassie stands watching; her feet shift her weight with discomfort.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," the man says.

"Dad took care of it," the boy says as he approaches the three. "Right dad?"

"Uh," the man's eyes look to the boy and then dart to Lassie for a second. "Yeah," he says with a nod before patting the little girl's back.

"They were attacking you, weren't they?" the boy asks with a sure nod as the girl steps away and looks up at Lassie.

Lassie swallows dryly and attempts to speak, but the words get caught in her throat. The most she could muster was a nod before turning her eyes away.

"Let's go back," the man says with a wave of his arm to the children. "The rest'll be wondering where we went off to—,"

"What about her?" Lassie looks down to see a small finger pointing back at her from the little girl. "Is she coming?"

The man gives a shrug. "She has her own people, Amanda—,"

"She was by herself, dad—,"

"Zack," the man says sternly as he looks back at the boy. The man shakes his head slowly. "She can't come with us," he says softly. "You know the rules—,"

"But she's by herself—,"

"And there ain't a damn thing I can do about it. Listen, bud, you know how hard it was for them to accept your mom." The man shakes his head. "After the stunt she pulled, I doubt Kristian and the others will want to take another stranger on—,"

"We can't just leave her here," Zack calls out over his father's words. Lassie takes a step back and shakes her head. The last thing she wanted was people fighting over how they handled her. "Dad, that's not fair—,"

"Look around, Zack; do you really think anything is going to be fair? Life isn't fair. You move on and deal with it—,"

"That's not what mom would have said—,"

"I'm fine on my own," Lassie lies. She was _not_ fine on her own. She gave up on her own. Lassie furrows her brow and gives a slow shake of her head. "Don't argue with your dad. You should listen to him. I can handle myself…"

"You were being attacked," the boy says.

She gives a smirk and winks at the boy. "You just caught me at a bad time."

"Where's mommy?" the little girl asks in a whine. Lassie looks to the child and then to the man as he stands with a stone face.

The boy shakes his head and places an arm on the girl's shoulder. "Mom's dead," he says distantly. Zack's dark eyebrows knit. "Soon, this girl will be dead and then dad'll die—and then it'll me and then you—,"

"Zack," the man growls as he looks down at his son.

Lassie stands awkwardly with the broken family. Her eyes glue to her shoes as the little girl cries and the boy and father argue amongst each other. She feels a small hand pull at the bottom of her shirt. The little girl stands before her; her forest green eyes pooling with tears as her mouth hangs open in a cry. Lassie watches her for a moment; it was curious to her—almost alien.

"I want mommy!" the little girl wails out before burrowing her face into Lassie's stomach.

Lassie attempts to get away; three quick steps back—but it is too late, the girl's arms are wrapped securely around her waist. Lassie raises her arms up and darts her dark eyes to the owner of the child.

"Amanda Sierra Malkovich—," the man approaches Lassie and pulls at his daughters arms. Once she is loose from Lassie, he spins the girl on her heels and holds her shoulders as he stares back at her at eyelevel. "What did I tell you about screaming?" he growls.

The little girl's lip quivers slightly before she lowers her chin. "Only if I'm hurt," she says in a sombre voice. Zack watches as his father rises. The truth was, Amanda _was_ hurt—they all were. But this pain had no entrance or exit wound; it grew on the inside like a ball of thorns and festered with sickness that rotted from the innards to the outside. Zack chews his lip for half a second. He couldn't see a bruise or scratch or scrape—he just knew his sister hurt the same way he did. It was an inside owie—a pain that made their hearts ach and bodies weak.

Zack looks up at Lassie and furrows his brow. She had the same pain—he knew it because it was like once he felt it, he could see who else suffered from it; like a mark on the forehead but it was the eyes that screamed the pain. That girl before him—she knew of it. She lived in it like him and his sister and his dad.

"Oh my god—," everyone turns towards the source of a new voice. Lassie watches as a young woman steps out from the trees; blood covers her front and mud sticks to her arms and face. Her dark eyes look to the man and she shakes her head. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you, Dean." She stumbles as a branch catches on her shoe and straightens stiffly as her eyes land on Lassie.

"Who's this?" she asks with her chin nudging to Lassie as her eyes look to Zack.

"I don't know," the boy says quietly.

"Lassie," she says softly. "My name's Lassie—,"

"Is that a little southern drawl I hear, Lassie?" the woman asks with a bit of a chuckle. Lassie gives a faint nod. "Very cool; been hearing a lot of that around here." the woman says as she pushes her wild dark curls out of her face. She takes a deep breath before lowering herself to the grass with a deep breath. "Sorry for the way I look," she says with a slow nod. "First impressions are important… but… so is staying alive," she says before letting out a chuckle. "My name's Birdie. Like a bird," she says with a smirk. The woman attempts to reposition her hair behind her ears only to have it bounce back to the same position. After a moment of silence, her eyebrows knit. "Is she coming with us?"

"No," Dean says quickly.

The woman cocks her head as she looks up at the man. "And why would that be, Dean?" she asks.

"Kristian won't take her—,"

"Did you ask?"

"No—,"

"Then how do you know?" the woman asks with a shrug of one shoulder.

"He won't," Dean says as his eyes look to the young woman. "I've known him for a long time, Birdie. He ain't gonna make an acceptation for some girl."

"Shows how much you know," the woman says before reclining herself back.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asks with a furrowed brow.

Birdie presses her lips together before wincing her eyes. "My dear brother is an ass at best… but he listens to his sister—and if I say that girl's coming with us, she's coming with us."

Lassie's cheeks pinch up. It was odd to watch how a group interacted when one was seeing it from the outside. There was something raw about Dean and Birdie; the way the young woman was so relaxed even as two bodies lied twenty feet away—the way Dean watched her with caution. Lassie chews her lip for a moment. They didn't like each other; but Lassie couldn't say why.

"Do you want to come with us?" Birdie asks as she looks Lassie up and down.

Lassie gives a shrug as she feels the children's eyes on her. "If you'll have me," she says with a raw voice.

"Shit, man," Birdie says with a nod. "I'll have you," she adds with a smirk. "Be nice having a fresh face around."

"Kristian won't like it," Dean warns.

"Screw what he likes," the young woman says with a hand waving away the words. "He can't say no to these big old brown puppy dog eyes." Birdie looks at Dean through the corners of her eyes. "Kind of like someone else I know," she adds quietly before smiling brightly as Lassie.

"Is it just you guys and your brother?" Lassie asks after a moment.

Birdie shakes her head. "There's me… these guys… my brother… my cousin… a couple odd faces… I think we're at nine now—eight, sorry—,"

"Eight?" Dean cocks his head.

Birdie's eyes lower. "Sol had a run in… he made it out, but he was bit." Dean furrows his brow. "Thus, the blood," Birdie says with a raised brow and hands raised before standing from the ground. "It was pretty brutal; blood squirting out all over the place—he was screaming and I was—,"

"Enough," Dean says as his eyes dart to Amanda and then back to Birdie.

The woman rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Anyway, we better get a move on. Where's Gail?"

"We're at seven now," Dean says with a stone face.

Birdie's eyes widen for half a second—it was the same look people gave in the beginning, but the surprise was nowhere near the same. Perhaps it was what loss looked like. "I knew she was bit," Birdie says through the side of her mouth.

"Wish you would've told me—,"

Birdie's nose curls with her words, "All you had to do was ask your wife. She would have told you in a heartbeat—but you were too selfish looking after yourself and trying to be the man you thought _we_ needed—,"

"I was doing the best I could," Dean hollers back.

"Obviously your best wasn't enough—,"

"Birdie, shut your mouth right now—,"

"Or else what—when was the last time you and Gail slept in the same tent, man?" the young woman's eyes narrow at him. "You were too busy looking for something else while you had the world right at your fingertips."

"What are you talking about?"

"You've got your kids. You had your wife. Jesus, ask anyone out here; most of us have lost everything we thought made us us a long time ago. You're lucky."

Dean watches Birdie for a long moment. "You're one to speak—,"

"Yeah… because I've got Kristian and Georgy, right?" Birdie scoffs. "Man… you had your family… but you can't see that you're slowly losing them because of the shit you're doing." Birdie pushes back her wild curls before shaking her head.

"I ain't taking this," Dean barks out. He turns his head towards his children. "Zack, take Amanda back to camp. Make sure you keep an eye on her—,"

"See—," Birdie steps forward with a finger pointed, "—right there!" The young woman's cheeks pinch up. "You throw all the responsibility onto Zack—every fucking time!" She watches as the boy's eyes lower to the grass. He knew it was true—he never said anything, but he didn't have to. "He's twelve years old, Dean. Let him be a kid," Birdie growls out through gritted teeth.

"You can't be a kid—," Birdie and Dean's contrasting eyes shoot to Lassie as she stands off to the side of their battle. She crosses her arms and gives a light shrug. "You can't," she says with more bass to her voice. "I mean, you can pretend and say he'll have a childhood out here… but we all know that's a lie. He's gonna have to grow up sooner than any of _you_ had to..." her chin draws back, "—sooner than me. His mind will get a li'l darker… he won't smile as much—_if_ he still does… but he's already been tainted," Lassie says with a tilt of her head. Zack looks to her and then darts his eyes back down. She licks her lips and looks back to Birdie and then Dean. "He's got those eyes…" Lassie winces. "Those ones that just scream horror but are too dignified to let those hollers come out," Lassie says softly. "He's gone through the same thing you guys have… so has your li'l girl but you guys are just too stubborn to see it." Lassie watches them for a moment. "They've got harshness where all you see is innocence." Lassie's face stretches as her head sways side to side. "You can't be innocent… you can't be a kid."

"What the hell," Dean nearly whispers as he looks back at Lassie with disgust.

Birdie takes a half step forward and turns to Dean before smirking. "That's messed up…" Birdie furrows her brow and bounces her eyes to Lassie and then back to Dean. "I like her," she says before looking back at Lassie. "We're, uh... we're going to keep you." Birdie nods her head. "You can come with us."

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**A nice long chapter for those who patiently waited. **

* * *

**Thirty**

"See," Bidie says as she turns around to face Lassie. "You've caught us at a rather vulnerable moment in our eternity of hell." Lassie furrows her brow as Birdie raises her arms as if to showcase something. "We had to make a quick escape two days ago… most of us are still trying to find each other," she says with a nod. "Some assholes decided to take our turf—a fucking beautiful campground. When I say beautiful, I mean, there was room enough for an entire army to house there—who knows, maybe in the beginning it did... anyway, it was gorgeous," Birdie says with her lips pulled tight and head twisting with bitterness. The young woman continues as she turns back to the direction they walk in, "Gail and I managed to collect Zack and Amanda before things got too heavy. We were safe—from the assholes, that is."

"How'd you find each other again?" Lassie asks as she watches Birdie twist her face to her.

"I was just getting to that," Birdie says with a smirk. "Our group, which was at some point at about twenty two, had a meeting place. If and when we got attacked or some kind of disaster happened, we were to meet at this place," she says with a nod. "As you can see, not many of them have made it to the meeting place yet," Birdie voice drops slightly before she gives a faint nod. "But it's no big deal," she says with a smile and wave of her hand. "C'est la vie, as the French say." She turns her body back to Lassie and rolls her arms at her sides like her hands were pushing wheels. "But you just gotta keep going—just keep rolling—," her left arm rises and she waves it as if it were blowing in the wind, "Catch the wave and ride it out." Lassie furrows her brow. The woman's eyes falls and she nods. "Right?" she asks with a shrug. Lassie quickly looks to Dean before bouncing back to Birdie.

"That's Birdie for you," Dean says making Lassie look to him again. The man brushes a hand through his short hair and sighs. "Kristian and Georgy were last seen in the thick of it all." Dean watches Birdie for half a second. "They told me they weren't leaving until everyone got out… we haven't seen them since."

"I went back there, Dean… their bodies aren't there. Sol was the only one I could find but that was only because he was under the fence those dickheads blasted through."

"You know the rules, Birdie—,"

"Fuck the rules—,"

"They're Kristian's rules—,"

Birdie screws her face up. "Fuck Kristian," she says. "If that was me—and I was alive—I'd hope they'd keep looking for me. I'm not going to just pretend he's dead when I think he could still be alive. I'm not giving up on Georgy either… he's like a brother to me." The young woman turns away from Dean and Lassie holds her breath. The way Birdie sounded—the way her words had such passion—Lassie could finally see how others saw her. They must have believed her to be as crazy as Birdie seemed in this moment. "I couldn't forgive myself if they were alive and I left them behind." Lassie presses her lips together and lowers her chin; that blind hope would do Birdie no good.

"Well—," Dean steps forward as a man passes the group of them, "—you can keep looking," he says. "But I'm gonna do what those two told me to do. We ain't staying here—not for another night—,"

"We can't go—,"

"It was Georgy's idea, Birdie—,"

"Yeah, well Georgy once kicked a wasps' nest because it was an idea—just because he thought it doesn't mean it's good," Birdie says with her voice squeaking.

"I've got my kids to think about," Dean says with a furrowed brow.

Birdie takes a step closer to him with her eyebrows knitted. "Please," she says softly. Lassie watches with curiosity; the words are the most gentle to come out of Birdie's mouth yet. "Just do this one thing for me and I swear to God I won't ask you for another." Her dark eyes look into Dean's sapphires. "Just this one thing… I've never asked anything from you… but I am now." Her eyes crinkle. "You owe me that much," she says in a whisper.

Dean takes a deep breath and looks out to the skimpy camp. "One more night," he says with a low nod. "We leave in the morning—first light," he adds before Birdie can say anything. Lassie watches as the man leaves with his son and daughter trailing closely behind.

Birdie cocks her head at the young woman and smirks. "So," she says, "were you ever in any of the refugee camps?" Lassie gives a shake of her head. She never made it to the one in Savannah. Birdie nods her head. "Good," she says before heading off.

Lassie quickly follows at the woman's heels. "Why's that good?" she asks with her eyes wincing.

Birdie shakes her head. "At best, those camps were the shits." The woman scratches at her rat's nest and makes a face. "I mean, they were cool until, like, the third day…" She shakes her head again. "Always the third day…" She smirks and turns to Lassie. "It was like every time Kristian and Georgy and me found one, everything would be all good until the third morning and suddenly the soldiers would start shouting, "Cobalt," and bullets would just fly!" Birdie watches Lassie with excitement almost waiting for the girl to have the same enthusiasm as her. She does not receive it. "First time that happened," Birdie says with her chin lowering slightly, "I thought they were talking about toothpaste." She lets out a dry laugh. "A kid from Detroit looking for a safe place only to have bullets flying over her head—," Birdie shakes her head once again, "—I could have gotten that excitement back home… before all this, you know," she says with a half grin.

Lassie's brow remains furrowed. This woman had a lot to say—longwinded answers to any question it seemed. It was nice. "How old were you?" Lassie asks.

Birdie presses her lips together before giving a beaming smile. "Seventeen," she says with a nod. "Probably be somewhere between eighteen and nineteen by now." Birdie cocks her head. "What about you? How old were you?"

"Fifteen—almost sixteen," Lassie says quietly. "I'll be seventeen in a month or two," she adds as if birthdays still mattered.

"Well, if I'm not around to see you to it, happy birthday, Lassie," Birdie says.

"Thanks," Lassie says timidly. Birthdays _still_ mattered.

"Listen, if you're hungry, follow me. I can check if there's any more cans left, but chances are you'll be eating smoked rabbit."

Lassie's eyes widen. It had been so long since she had eaten meat—real meat, not the mystery canned spam. Her mouth nearly salivates at the thought. "I—I'm okay with that," she says with a shrug.

Birdie nods as they turn through two tents and stand before a wagon with a cooler inside. The woman flips the lid off and sighs. "Only three water bottles left," she says before taking one and giving it to Lassie. She then lifts a sack from the wagon and opens it. "Rabbit or peaches and cream?" she asks.

"Whatever you have too much off," Lassie says before looking back at Birdie.

"Smoked rabbit it is," Birdie says through the side of her mouth. Suddenly, Birdie lowers to the grass and leans on the wagon. She pats the ground next to her and Lassie timidly lowers. "You been in groups before?" Birdie asks as she passes off the smoked meat.

Lassie nods her head faintly. "A couple," she says.

Birdie raises a brow before bringing out a pocketknife and prying open the can of corn. "What's a couple?" she asks with her chin rising slightly as the knife digs in and out of the top of the can.

Lassie looks down at the meat. To a starved belly it looked like a roasted turkey on thanksgiving dinner. "Two—mainly," she says with her eyebrows knitting slightly. She watches a Birdie tucks her blade and puts the pocketknife back into her pocket. "I couldn't stay with either of them," she says with some hesitate ion.

"Why not?" Birdie asks with her eyes leaving her freshly opened can.

"The first one…" Lassie shrugs. "It just didn't work out." She takes a deep breath. "The second one had some bad people in it… someone did something bad that the others didn't like… and I decided I'd rather be with bad than _really_ bad… so I left."

"Have you been alone?"

Lassie chews on a piece of the rabbit and gives a slow nod.

"Didn't like it?"

Again, Lassie nods.

Birdie presses her lips together with thought. "I've been lucky," she says and Lassie darts her eyes at the young woman. Someone who had bullets flying over their head just called themselves lucky—it was strange, yet she found comfort in it. "I've been with my brother the whole time. My cousin… we ran into him a few months ago. He had a group, we had a group—," her head bobs in a nod, "—then our two groups became one."

Lassie watches as a woman emerges from one of the tents. Silence invades her ears like a Trojan horse.

"Do you have any family left?" Birdie asks. The last word feels strange rolling off her tongue; it was empty and hopeless—helpless even.

Lassie's eyelids lower as she shakes her head for the answer. She takes a deep breath and lets it go through her mouth. "Nope," she says softly making the end pop as if to lighten the heavy answer.

"Family's overrated," Birdie says with a nod of her head before scooping some corn into her mouth. Lassie lets out a sigh and lowers the smoked rabbit. She was no longer hungry; the burn in her stomach was now in her heart. Only people with families could say they were overrated. Lassie clasps her chest as her lungs tighten. Family was all that mattered now. If one didn't have it, they had nothing. Lassie struggles for air as she pulls at the neck of her shirt.

"Calm down," Birdie says as she drops her can; her dark eyes wide like saucers as they look back at Lassie. "Just breathe," she says. Suddenly, Birdie raises Lassie's arms above her head—that was all the girl remembered before blackness swallowed her like a monster in the night.

* * *

Birdie takes a deep full breathe as Lassie lies on the tent's floor. Every few hours since Dean brought her in, Birdie made it her duty to check on the girl. She of all people understood a panic attack. Before, it was fairly common for her to have three a week—in fact, it was one of the reasons she was held back a year in school. Birdie shakes her head slowly as Lassie rolls in her sleep. The only _real_ difference between then and now was prescriptions were no longer existent and sleep was the main cure for anxiety.

With evening rolling in, Birdie approaches a low burning fire Dean and Zack had built. As she sits on the grass, Amanda lets out a soft yawn as she sits cradled on her father's lap. The autumn wind blows across the child's red cheeks as she burrows her face against Dean's chest for more warmth.

"She's might be the youngest person we'll ever see again," Dean says softly as the girl's eyelids heavily lower with sleep.

Birdie nods slowly as Amanda snores quietly on her father. "Kind of scary to think she could be the youngest person alive right now," she says with her eyebrows slightly raised.

Dean takes a deep breath before staring down at the base of the fire. It was a very scary thought—truly terrifying to think his baby girl could be the last of the youth of the human species.

Birdie twists her head as movement sounds off in the darkness. Within an instance, Amanda's eyes are wide open—not with fear, but with alert.

"Hey little Bird," a redhead says as she steps into the light of the fire. Birdie's face lights up for a moment as she see the familiar woman but the brightness fall short as the woman's hand reaches back and brings another woman into view. "It's all right, babe; I told you we would find them again," she says in a cooing way to the woman she brings forward.

"Hey—," the second woman winces before lowering herself next to Dean and Amanda, "—Deaner," she finishes.

"You don't look too hot, Rhonda," Birdie says with a grimace. Something was wrong with the woman—something unfixable—Birdie could tell it by the way the redhead's eyes kept looking back to Rhonda. Concern—worry, even.

"What are you talking about, Birdie?" the redhead asks with a smile trying to hide the anxiety everyone else let shine so brightly. "She looks better today than she did when I first met her—,"

Rhonda lets out a laugh and quickly clasps her side with pain. "I must have looked awful," she says after a gulp of air.

"Nah," the redhead says with a gentle smirk. "You were beautiful then and you're beautiful now." Suddenly, the redhead presses her lips together and looks down at the little girl on Dean's lap. As if on cue, Dean gives Amanda a soft nudge.

"I want you to go to bed now, angel," he says and just as the girl opens her mouth to protest, Dean arches his eyebrow. "I let you stay up late enough. Zack's already sleeping. It's grown up time now," he says as he lifts the child off his lap.

"You okay finding the tent?" Birdie asks—a part of her waningt—no—wishing the child needed assistance. Birdie didn't like the way things were going; she wanted to escape it. Amanda gives a faint shake of her head and the young woman feels her stomach flip. Before heading on her way, Amanda's eyes catch the image of Rhonda one last time. That was when Birdie saw it—those eyes Lassie spoke of; the harshness.

"When did it happen?" Dean asks and suddenly Birdie is brought back to the issue. Her neck twists and she sees Dean examining Rhonda's wound. It was a bite no doubt six inches above her navel.

"I'd say about six hours ago. We were fine escaping the campground—but those dick wads must have lead the biters our way," the redhead says. "I've been putting pressure on it but it just won't stop bleeding," she adds; concern makes her voice hoarse and waver.

"It's okay, Leah," Rhonda says as she reaches for her girlfriend's hand. Birdie feels a lump grow in her throat as she watches the two. "Everything is going to be just fine," she says in a slow yet comforting way.

"No, babe, it's not," Leah says in a bit of a whine as she takes Rhonda's hand. "It's not—you're not—,"

"Hey, no, no, no," Rhonda says in a soothing tone as she shakes her head. "I thought I was the one who did the worrying for us."

Leah gives a sad smile before frowning. She lowers to Rhonda and shakes her head slowly. "I—," the woman's eyes lower before she find the strength to look back. "I don't want to lose you," she says with such vulnerability Birdie feels her own tear release.

"Honey, you're not losing me. You couldn't even if you tried," Rhonda says with a pained expression. "Come here, Leah," she says before holding the only person she loved with every ounce of her being. Rhonda swallows back her own cry as Leah sobs silently in her arms. "Hey," Rhonda nearly whispers. Leah pulls away and her girlfriend cups her cheek. "God has a plan," Rhonda says so softly Birdie isn't sure if she actually heard the words leave the woman's mouth. The fire crackles and the light sparks the tears in Rhonda's eyes.

"If his plan doesn't include you, I don't want a part in it," Leah says with bitterness that makes her face twist.

"Hey," Rhonda says with a furrowed brow. "Don't you be talking like that. You've gotta look after our girl," she says before nodding her head off at Birdie. "She needs you more than you think." Rhonda smiles at Birdie. "And my Leah is going to need you too," she adds. Birdie nods her head stiffly as she wipes at her tears. Rhonda and Leah were like mothers to her. Losing Rhonda was almost as painful as it was to watch her own mother pass from the fever.

"I love you so much, Rhonda," the redhead says with a shake of her head.

"I love you too," she says with a hitch in her voice. After a deep breath, Rhonda looks to Dean. Her lips tighten into a thin line before she gives a solid sure nod. "I'm ready Deaner," she says.

Dean takes a quick breath. This was how they dealt with death of their own people. They didn't let them suffer and _never_ let another turn. Dean places Rhonda's arm around his shoulder and rises. He would take her off into the bushes—maybe find a nice little grove. He would say what he felt need to be said and then Rhonda would nod or close her eyes to signal she was prepared for her life to end in a final way. Then Dean would raise his gun and shoot her in the back of the head. After that, the morbid live funeral would be over.

"Let's go for a nice moonlit walk," Dean says with a wink and grin at the woman hanging on his shoulders.

"How romantic," Rhonda says with sarcasm despite her pain.

Birdie's eyes shoot to the ground—she couldn't watch them leave. She couldn't have the image of Rhonda limping off into darkness as her final memory of the woman. Birdie wipes at her eyes and gulps at the air as she fights to keep her calm. Suddenly, arms wrap around her body and she tumbles down her slope of ugly raw emotions—but not alone. Leah was there and her emotions were just as—if not, more—ugly than Birdie's.

* * *

_Bang!_

Lassie's eyes shoot open and for a nanosecond panic engulfs her and she thrashes like a wild animal. In the time it takes for a heart to beat, she realizes where she is—that she is safe—that she is alive. Her hands reach out into the darkness and find the tent's zipper. Quickly, she makes her way out into the darkness outside.

"Look who's up—," Lassie's eyes shoot to a low hanging fire and then to the three faces floating around it; two familiar and one strange.

"I hope you don't mind us letting you sleep," Dean says as his eyes hang on the ground. "I know from myself I don't get much sleep so when I _do_ get a chance to shut my eyes it's nice to not be disturbed."

"Thanks," Lassie says with a low nod. She stands right before the fire's light; her eyes studying the faces before her.

"I figured in the morning we'll head north. Might as well see if those bastards _do_ freeze," Dean says as Leah gives a shallow nod.

"What if Kristian and Georgy are back?" Birdie asks and Lassie swallows hard.

"Then I tell them we should get a move on and see if the cold is better." Dean furrows his brow. "Those two ain't got much time left before we head off—,"

"You mean before _you_ leave," Birdie corrects and Leah arches an eyebrow.

Dean narrows his eyes. "Birdie, you know as well as me you'd die out here alone—,"

Leah shakes her head. "I made a promise with your brother, little Bird. You go where I go _when_ I go. If I go with Dean, then you better be damn sure you're coming with me," she says and Birdie's eyes wince. "Don't play that look on me, kiddo. It might have worked on Rhonda but not me." Leah furrows her brow and hunches over. "You _know_ the longer they stay out there the more likely they've turned. I can't take that chance with you on my shoulders." Leah pushes back her ginger hair. "I _won't_ take that chance with you on my shoulders."

"We have to wait for them," Birdie urges.

"Why?" Dean asks.

"To see if I can stay," Lassie says with a quick step into the fire's light. Birdie inverts her eyebrows at the girl.

"I'm sorry," Leah says with a hand rising. "Who the hell are you?"

"Lassie," Birdie says before shifting to her knees. "She's been on her own," she adds with a nod.

"As far as I can see, _Lassie_, you're a part of this group whether or not those two show up. Consider this your housewarming party," Leah says with her eyes rolling.

"She just wants to make sure her brother won't be coming here looking for her," Lassie says with another step forward. Her dark eyes bounce from Dean to Leah to Birdie. "Comin' from someone who lost both her brothers… just let Birdie wait it out." Lassie lowers her chin. "Just let her see."

Birdie takes a deep breath and rests her forehead on her palm. "I know they'll be here." She shakes her head. "I _know_," she says with her eyes dancing on Dean and Leah almost nervously.

Lassie wipes at her nose and lets out a breath. "Family is everything…" she nearly whispers before lowering herself beside Birdie. Her eyes look to Dean and then the redhead. "If they're gone you can move on and keep going without them… but if you think they're alive…" She shakes her head. "There's no moving forward. For every step you take their memories… they pull back three."

"How'd you lose them?" Dean asks and Birdie glares at the man. She knew enough to not ask newcomers how they lost their loved ones. Dean should have too.

Lassie shrugs. "One's dead… the other might as well be."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Leah asks and Birdie cocks her head at Lassie.

"One of the groups I was in, I got kicked out… one of my brothers was there." Lassie licks her lips and watches the fire for a moment.

"He didn't go with you?" Birdie asks in a meek whisper.

Lassie shoots her eyes to the darkness as the fire burns bright holes in her vision. "I'm dead," she says. "If they told him I was alive, he'd be at my side right now… but he ain't." Lassie shakes her head again and sighs. "You know, it's _really_ stupid that we try _so hard_ to keep the people we had from before with us." She palms her face. "If I had spent the energy I did lookin' for them in exchange of looking for food or water… or shelter… I'd probably be pretty okay right now." Lassie's shoulders drop. "I'm not sayin' you should give up on them," she says with her eyes looking to Birdie. "But… Just remember even when you think they're your whole world, they're not."

A crackle sounds off behind the fire and everyone turns to the noise. Dean reaches for the gun holstered into the back of his pants and Leah readies a knife. Birdie rises and grips a rock in her palm as Lassie merely sits in the fire's light waiting.

"You hold it," one voice growls.

"No, you hold it," another bites back. "You found it; you're carrying it."

"What; I wasn't going to leave it—I might be an ass but I'm not completely heartless—,"

"There you go; whine, whine, whine, bitch, bitch, bitch—,"

"I swear to God, it'll be a miracle if you make it to the camp alive," the first voice says in an annoyed tone.

"Why?"

"Because if the biters don't get you I might—,"

"Kristian," the name is said with such familiarity yet the surprise is all but translucent. Lassie's head follows as Birdie approaches two dark silhouettes.

"It's a miracle; the Harold angels sing," the second voice says in an enlightened way.

"Birdie," the first voice says and suddenly the young woman is engulfed by one of the dark figures. "Jesus Christ, I thought you were a goner—,"

"Especially after seeing what was left of Evan," the second voice adds.

"I knew you guys would come," Birdie says as her eyes bounce from Kristian to Georgy and back again.

"It's good to see you," Dean says as he takes a step forward.

Birdie's eyes shoot to Kristian's arms and suddenly the breath in her escapes. "Is that a—,"

"Shh," Kristian says as he cradles his parcel. "It just got to sleep," he says with scared wide eyes and a nervous nod.

"Oh good Lord," Dean says as he palms the back of his neck and shakes his head.

"Leave it to the Truitt boys to find a baby during the apocalypse," Leah says with a touch of exhaustion. Lassie slowly rises from the grass and stares down at the new faces. Sure as the heat from the fire, a baby sat clutched on the man's chest.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Another nice long chapter for those who patiently waited. **

* * *

**Chapter Thirty One**

"Just like that," Georgy says with a nod as he removes his hand from the bottle and takes a step away from Lassie. The young woman looks up at him with fear as she stands feeding the baby boy in her arms. "You're doing great, Lassie," he says with a smirk as he backs up further.

"Don't you dare leave me," Lassie warns him but just as she is about to say something more, he gets even further away from her.

"What are you going to do? Throw him at me?" he lets out a laugh and Lassie's eyebrows rise.

"I just might!" she calls back and suddenly the baby whimpers. Lassie looks down at him and attempts to bounce him soothingly.

"Oh, you definitely look like you're about to toss him," he mocks.

"Seriously, Georgy, don't do this," she says as she looks back to him.

"I have to go with Kristian and Birdie won't take Caleb. You're my Kanobi; help me Obi Wan, you're my only hope."

"If I'm Obi Wan that makes you a princess—,"

"Hell no, I'm R2D2," Georgy says. "I relay the message, thank you."

Lassie rolls her eyes as Georgy heads off. "The prequels sucked!" Lassie calls out.

"Tell me something I don't know," Georgy calls back with a wave of his hand.

Lassie lets out a growl of frustration before turning her mind back on the task at hand. Caleb was getting big. Only two weeks had passed, yet he felt heavier and looked longer than he did when she first saw him. Lassie lookd up as Dean walks by; Amanda holds his hand as Zack trails behind. The group had made camp; Georgy and Kristian were off to check out a gas station they had passed earlier. Lassie was supposed to go with Kristian but Georgy managed to trick her into feeding Caleb so he could go instead.

Lassie lets out a sigh and shakes her head. It was odd; these people acted like family—even the ones who had no relation to the others from before. Dean was the stern fatherly man; if someone was out of line, Dean was the one who took care of them. Leah was almost like a mother; she comforted when it was necessary and made sure everyone had what they needed. Kristian by all means was the older brother of the bunch; he knew things that the younger ones didn't and he wasn't afraid to go head to head with Leah and Dean. The only difference was Kristian won most of the time. Birdie was more or less a sister to everyone; she knew how to annoy the guys and was dead near a best friend to all the girls. Georgy, despite his age, was the annoying little brother. He would trick, lie, and do whatever he could in order to be at the side of Kristian. There were others; Hendrix and Joyce. Those two played the roles of aunt and uncle. Sometimes they were the cool aunt and uncle; allowing the young ones to stay up later, giving out candy and gum when they had it. Other times Joyce was the aunt who spent most of her energy gossiping and Hendrix was the uncle who wanted nothing to do with the family. Either way, this group Lassie found herself in was one big family of misfits and leftovers.

Out of them all, Lassie seemed to spend most of her time with Birdie. The two would do their chores together when the group would settle; they would eat together, walk together, and even sleep next to each other. Lassie found herself enjoying Birdie's need to talk all the time, and Birdie enjoyed the fact that Lassie liked to listen to her. However, when it came to interests and hobbies, Georgy seemed to be a perfect fit for her.

The two would spend most of their evenings at the fire just talking. Sometimes it would be about activities such as camping, swimming, movies they had seen, sometimes they would talk about their families. Georgy's father liked his beer much in the same way Lassie's father liked his hooch. Georgy was the product of a second marriage; so was Lassie. He was the youngest of five children and Lassie was the youngest of three. They seemed to understand each other on a deeper level than just friends; Georgy, in a sense, had replaced what she had lost with her brothers. Georgy was family.

"You two are such nerds," Birdie says with a smirk as she approaches Lassie.

"You were probably too busy watchin' Twilight to actually appreciate the beauty George Lucas put into Star Wars," Lassie says with a head bob of attitude.

"You know, Georgy's mom named him after that guy," she says with a bit of a laugh. "Seriously, his name is George and his middle name is Lucas. She was the one who introduced him into _that_ galaxy."

"Merle rented it from the video shop in town, popped it in and after the words scrolled by he said, "This is bullshit," and walked away." Lassie smirks. Merle had left the living room and Lassie and Daryl sat on the couch intrigued by the movie. The next day Daryl rented the rest of the movies and the two watched them over and over again. "They were good movies," she says with a nod.

"I see your stuck with the drool machine," Birdie says with a nod to Caleb.

"I thought _I_ was goin' with Kristian—,"

"So did I," she says with a sigh. "Now you're stuck here babysitting," she spits. "Funny how things work."

"Li'l Bird—,"

Birdie cranes were neck out to the calling and screws her face up. "Shit. She found me," she whispers. "Consider yourself lucky," she says before heading off towards Leah's voice.

Lassie makes her ways carefully towards where Hendrix and Dean are. Wood sits in a pile as Hendrix used a match to light a piece of paper before placing it into some tinder. As the tinder catches, Dean places a piece of wood across it and high fives Hendrix.

"Wanna hold Caleb?" she asks as Dean's eyes hit her.

Dean shakes his head with a smirk. "I already looked after my own," he says.

"Hendrix?" she asks with a tilt of her head.

"I ain't got much else to do," he says before rubbing his palms on his pants and taking the baby from Lassie's tiring arms.

Dean watches carefully as Hendrix takes the baby from Lassie arms and readjusts him into a move comfortable position. "Man, he's about as big as my Sherry was," Hendrix says with a smile that's teeth shown with the purest white Lassie had ever seen. His eyes crinkle as his lips pull back around his teeth. "I'm glad he's lookin' better than he did when he first showed up," Hendrix says with a nod. "Li'l guy only needed someone to care for him," he says as he stands the baby up on his lap. "Ain't that right, Caleb?"

Lassie smirks as Hendrix makes faces at the baby. The man was just over six feet tall, he was strong and sturdy; his thighs were as think as tree trunks and his arms were as wide as Lassie's waist. To see such a large man be so gentle to such a tiny thing made the young woman smile. Babies did that to people.

"I didn't know you and Joyce had a child," Dean says as he eyes up the man.

"Not Joyce," Hendrix says with a shake of his head. "She and I met after everythin' fell. Sherry was mine and my wife's daughter. Cutest li'l thing; great big green eyes, a pile of black nappy hair, and big o' baby doll lips." He smirks. "She was beautiful."

"What happened to her?" Lassie asks making the tall man's dark eyes fall to her.

Hendrix takes a breath and twists his head and he lowers Caleb into a seated position. "My wife decided to leave me," he says with a single nod. Hendrix's eyes crinkle. "I wasn't a good man back then. I did things that nobody should ever do. One day my wife and Sherry were there and the next… they were gone and all that remained was a mattress on the bedroom floor, a couple spoons and forks, a steak knife, and a few pots and pans." Hendrix looks to Caleb and smirks. "They could've left me with nothin' and I would've been fine. As long as they were okay where they were, I was okay." Hendrix's brow furrows. "I just wish my wife found that out long before she did."

"You wanted her to leave?" Dean asks with inverted eyebrows.

Hendrix turns his face slowly to Dean and watches him for a half second. "At the time; no. But… when I think about the things I did to her… the things I put her through… I really wish she did. Instead, she left hatin' me and thinkin' I was a monster." Hendrix nods. "I was a monster."

Lassie shifts her feet with discomfort. "Did you hit her?" she asks with her eyes on the slowly growing fire below.

Hendrix's dark eyes look to Lassie. "I'm not proud of it if that's what you wanna know."

Lassie nods her head slowly before looking at Dean's shoes. Seeing Hendrix hold Caleb no longer made her smile. She felt as though she should take him away from the man—but seeing Dean sit next to Hendrix so calmly brought her reassurance.

"How does Joyce feel 'bout all this?" Dean asks before letting out a heavy sigh and he rubs his face.

"She told me the moment she felt scared was the moment I would no longer be with her." Hendrix nods. "But if anyone's doin' the scaring, it's definitely her." He smirks. "You seen how she gets," Hendrix says as he hits his knee against Dean's. "That woman is terrifyin'. " He pulls at the blanket around Caleb and covers the baby. "I don't wanna lose her."

Dean's eyes look to Lassie for a second before looking back to Hendrix. He could feel the girl's discomfort and he could nearly feel her hate grow for Hendrix. "We all got a dark history, bud," Dean says with a nod. "Yours sounds a lot cleaner than some of the ones I've heard."

"Why did you do it?" Lassie asks in a meek voice.

Hendrix cocks his head for a half second and then lowers his eyes. "It made me feel powerful. Sometimes the world would be spinnin' wildly or I had a shitty day… or somethin' didn't go right. I knew that if I went home I was in control." Hendrix presses his lips together in thought. "I'd tell her I was sorry and that it wouldn't happen again. For a long time, I believed my own words… to me I was tellin' her the truth." He lets out a sigh. "But it would always come back to that moment of me cryin' tellin' her I was sorry and that it would never happen again."

"Heavy," Dean says with a nod.

"What 'bout you?" Hendrix asks as he watches Lassie. "What's your background?"

Lassie crosses her arms and takes a half step back. "You wouldn't like it," she says.

"I don't even like mine," Hendrix says with a half smile. "Take a seat; tell a story," he adds.

"It's boring," she says as she hesitates.

"Make somethin' up," he adds and Lassie lowers herself to a log.

She shrugs. "What do y' wanna know?"

Hendrix furrows his brow. "How'd it start for you?"

Lassie shakes her head. "It wasn't good," she says and Hendrix and Dean let out chuckles.

"If it _was_ good I doubt any of us would've met," Dean says with a shake of his head. Lassie swallows hard and shrugs again.

"Tell me the exact moment you believe made you the way you are today," Hendrix says with his chin lowering.

"What do you mean how I am today?"

"Harsh, rough… double edged sword. I wanna know what made those sharp edges."

"I don't know—,"

"Yeah you do," Hendrix says with a nod. "Every livin' person today knows the moment they killed the person they were before and birthed the person they are now."

"Mine was when I chose my kids over Gail," Dean says with a sobering nod. "That was my beginning… or end, however you wanna look at it."

"I killed a boy because he was gonna steal from us. Shot 'im before he could yell for help." Hendrix nods. "That was my defining moment."

Dean grabs the man's knee in a supporting manner. "You did what was needed," he says with a nod and Hendrix bobs his head in agreement.

"What was it for you?" he asks as he narrows his eyes at Lassie.

"I don't know… the beginning's really blurry. I know I was scared before." She rests her arms across her lap as she hunches over. "I remember one day… must've been a few weeks in because I was starvin'… bones were poppin' out where my skin used to be thicker… all I wanted in the world was food." She furrows her brow at the memory. "I went into a grocery store. The smell was terrible—all the produce was rotten; flies were buzzin' and maggots filled the gaps between edible and dead near toxic waste." Lassie's nose twitches as the smell comes back to her. "I went down a few aisles and everythin' was gone. Nothing—not even a pack or ramen noodles sat on the shelves." Lassie nods her head as she looks to Caleb. "I decided to go in the back thinkin' maybe nobody else thought about doin' the same." She lets out a breath. "They had."

Hendrix lets out a distasteful noise. "I hate hunger," he says. "I never knew what being hungry was until everything started shuttin' down. It can make you do terrible things."

"There was a boy back there. He was about the same age as me—probably there for the same reasons too." Lassie chews her lip. "He was crouched by some boxes and when he heard me he shot up. He didn't seem scared or angry… it felt like he was tryin' to protect somethin'." She shakes her head. "I would've left him… I would've put my hands up and backed away… but I was so damn hungry.

"Instead of him tellin' me to go away, he opened his arms and said take what you need… so I did." Lassie shakes her head. "I left that place with my backpack full and my belly stuffed with what I couldn't carry." She closes her eyes and screws her face up. "I saw that a boy a few days later. He was caught in a wire fence—his shoelaces tangled." Lassie's brow rises as she looks to the men before her. "He didn't see me, he was too occupied with the biters chasin' him." She shakes her head. "So I turned myself around 'n' left him." Lassie shakes her head dully as the boy's hollers sound in her ears. "I went back to the grocery store and took what he left behind. He wasn't gonna need it where he was goin'."

"Waste not, want not," Hendrix says with a nod. "Did it change you?"

Lassie nods her head. "It made me feel real guilty. I could've helped him… I could've saved him and been on my way with what I already had. Instead I let greed take over." She shakes her head. "After that weak moment, I decided I was gonna start survivin' like that boy was. I wasn't gonna take what I didn't need. I wasn't gonna pretend someone didn't need me. If someone needed me I was gonna do whatever they needed me to do despite my own safety." She watches as Dean and Hendrix stare at her with blank faces. "You can't live out here and not help someone sooner or later. If you do that you're no better than those people who kill your own. I don't wanna be those people.

"I mean, my life comes first—my survival is my main mission… but if there's a chance someone else could be alive because of me… why not?" She shakes her head with a bashful grin on her face. "I'm not meant to kill so if I can't save what good am I?"

Dean furrows his brow. "Who was the first person you _saved_?"

"Matt," Lassie says with a smile. "Matthew Donald Phan," she adds with a nod. "I taught him how to scavenge and make fires… I showed him how to make deadfalls and other traps."

"What happened to him?" Dean asks.

"It's not what happened to him but what happened to me. I was kicked out of the group we were taken in to."

"Who else did you help?" Hendrix asks as he props Caleb's back against his stomach.

Lassie looks to Dean and shakes her head. "Nobody," she says simply. "I tried to save another… but he turned," she lies for Dean's sake.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Hendrix says.

"Ain't nothin' to be sorry for," Lassie says through the side of her mouth.

After a moment of silence, Hendrix nods his head. "That Matt kid was probably so thankful to have bumped into you," he says.

Lassie's eyebrows lower before she looks back at the tall man. "I think I was more thankful," she says with a nod. "I mean—he told me he was thankful towards me… but I don't think he realized that he was in a way redeeming me. I never told him," she says. "He'll never know."

"He might," Hendrix says with a nod. "The world is a much smaller place than we thought before," he adds with a smirk.

"'Bout time we start makin' dinner, what do y' say?" Dean asks as he turns to Hendrix.

"Leah and Birdie almost have the tents up. Joyce'll come around askin' when it'll be ready… yeah… we should start it up," he says before rising. He steps to Lassie and lowers the baby to her arms. "Maybe you could save Caleb too," he says with a shrug. "When he starts walkin' and talkin', he's gonna need someone to show him how things are done in order to live. You could be that person for him."

Lassie nods her head faintly as she looks down at the baby.

"Your not a bad person for leavin' that boy. If you didn't feel bad about it, _that_ would've made you a bad person." Hendrix nods. "Keep that in mind… there's something behind your eyes that tells me you're gonna need to remember that."

Lassie takes a breath and gives another nod. Sometimes, she was a bad person though. For God's sake she beat a man senseless for nothing. Lassie brushes a hand through Calebs thin hair. She shot Levi's sister. Lassie leaves the fire and heads into a tent to put Caleb down. She _was_ a bad person.

* * *

Amanda watches carefully as Birdie brings the thing towards the fire they sit around. It had been fourteen days; fourteen days of hearing everyone talk about the thing like it was the most wonderful thing in the world. It wasn't. It couldn't even walk let alone talk. For all she knew, it probably couldn't even think. And it cried—no, it wailed like a banshee.

Amanda's nose curls up ever so slightly as Leah and Kristian hover over the baby. She watches with annoyance as Leah lets out a laugh as the baby coos and gurgles. What was so special about it? It couldn't even control its own bladder. Joyce and Hendrix make faces at the thing and oo and ah at the thing's giggle. The girl lets out an exasperated sigh and Lassie smirks.

The young woman watches Amanda for a moment longer and then nudges her. "I bet he stinks," Lassie says with a crinkled nose. Amanda looks to her and then back to the baby. "Probably spit up all over himself too," she adds with a smirk. "All I can say is that I'm glad I'm not on baby duty anymore," she says with an arch eyebrow before looking back to the little girl.

"I don't like him," Amanda says with a scoff.

"Neither do I," Lassie agrees with a smirk.

"You hold him," Amanda says with narrowed eyes. "_And_ feed him," she adds.

"He needs those things," Lassie says with a shrug. She had scarcely said more than six words to the girl previously, but Lassie could sniff out jealousy like a blood hound could sniff out a criminal. "But if he didn't—," Lassie draws her chin back, "—you can bet your bottom I wouldn't be within ten feet of that thing," she says and Amanda lets out a giggle.

"Babies are gross," Amanda says with a grin.

Lassie nods. "Babies are definitely gross." She looks to the baby and then back to Amanda. "Hard to believe you were ever that small though, huh?" Lassie scratches the back of her neck and rotates her shoulders as her arm lowers.

Amanda nods slowly as she stares at the people hovering and laughing and playing with the baby. "I don't think I was ever like _that_," she says before looking back at Lassie.

Lassie smirks. "I bet you were smaller than that and probably just as gross too," she says making Amanda curl her upper lip. "I know I was," Lassie says with a deep nod. "My brothers used to tell me about it all the time just to embarrass me," she adds.

"Zack doesn't remember me bein' that small—,"

"He was probably too young to remember," Lassie says. "My brothers were a lot older than me. My oldest, Merle, was probably older than your dad," she says and Amanda eyes bulge. "Daryl, my other brother, was the one with most of the stories though. He used to baby sit me all the time," Lassie says with a smirk. "If you think that baby there is gross, I don't know what you'll think of me when I tell you this," she warns. Amanda cocks her head as if to urge Lassie on. "One time, Daryl was baby sitting me—I'd be about… a little over a year. Anyway, he fell asleep and Merle—,"

"The one older than daddy—,"

"Yeah, he walked into the trailer. Daryl had fallen asleep and I was on the living room floor with no diaper." Lassie shrugs. "Merle said he wasn't sure if it was chocolate or poop on the rug and he wasn't willin' to test it."

"Eww," Amanda says.

"Yeah," Lassie nods. "You probably have a poop story too," she says with a grin. "All I'm sayin' is; we were all once like that—," Lassie nudges her head to the baby, "—we all were helpless and stupid." Lassie watches Amanda for a moment. "But we all had someone to look after us. Caleb doesn't," Lassie says softly. "So, you don't have to like 'im, but you do have to tolerate him—even when he's as gross as he is. Got it?"

Amanda nods her head. "Yeah," she nearly whispers.

"Leah, Kristian… Birdie, your dad, Georgy, all of 'em; they're all wrap up in him, but that doesn't mean they've forgotten 'bout you." Lassie takes a breath. "You know how it was before the sickness, right?" Amanda nods. "We could go see a new movie, eat all kinds of foods without havin' to worry 'bout where our next meal would come from. We could see anythin' we wanted to… now, some things we won't ever see again," she adds. "New clothes, websites, working computers, video games," she shakes her head, "we won't see them… not in our lifetimes." Lassie furrows her brow. "Caleb was on that list of things we wouldn't see again too." She licks her lips. "But we see him. He's here and breathin' and cryin'. Nobody thought we'd see a baby again." She smirks. "That's why _they_ like him." Lassie's eyes lower. "Caleb is a baby and babies bring hope." She looks back to Amanda. "I think your daddy and every one else might've lost hope. Caleb brought it back." Lassie shrugs. "If that's not a reason to like 'im, I don't know what is," she says.

"I thought you didn't like 'im," Amanda says with a furrowed brow.

"I don't," Lassie says simply. "But he needs me… and I think I might need him too."

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


	32. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

Lassie races at Birdie's side. The two were on a run with Kristian, Georgy, and Hendrix. Their mission: to find and bring back as many backpacks and duffle bags and clothes as they could. Kristian and Georgy had decided that if the group were headed north they were going to need proper attire and the ability to carry things without freezing their fingers off in the process.

Lassie twists her head to the left as she sees the large figure of Hendrix pick up speed and pass them. He was fast—faster than most people Lassie had the chance of seeing. His only problem was he couldn't maintain the speed. He could sprint like no tomorrow but once it came to keeping a steady pace, he was all over the place; going too fast or too slow or simply having to stop altogether to gain back energy. Hendrix had yet to evolve from simply running away to running for a cause.

Birdie nods her head off in a direction and without question Lassie follows while the others continue down their streamline path. The two were given orders to take on the side roads nearest camp. Hendrix would take on the highway until reaching town allowing him to check out the four gas stations on the way there while Kristian and Georgy would be checking the perimeter of the town before deciding whether it was safe enough to venture in.

Lassie watches as Birdie takes three purposefully exaggerated steps as the young woman's arms flail wildly around her. Lassie lets out a laugh and turns her face away. Birdie takes another exaggerated step but slips on the gravel only to have her flail about even more wildly before Lassie. Lassie pushes her hair off her face and stops her run as she lets out her laughter. Birdie slips a bit more on the road and suddenly she's flat on her back looking up at Lassie in her giggle fit.

Birdie smiles back up at the girl and takes Lassie's out stretched arm only to pull her down beside her. Lassie lets out a yelp but yields to the yank. There was more than enough time for them to slack off.

Birdie looks up in the cloudy sky as the wind blows. Red, orange and yellow leaves swirl around the girls. Lassie feels Birdie grip her hand and she squeezes back. The trees surrounding them on both sides of the road acted like a frame for the sky they stared up at. Lassie lets out a breath and slowly her smile fades to a grin and then back to the all familiar flat line her lips had become in the passing year.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Birdie says wistfully before turning her head to Lassie. "You don't get that in the city, that's for sure."

Lassie nods her head and smirks as three crows fly above and into the frame before disappearing behind the trees. Lassie sits up and hunches over her knees; she never thought she would ever marvel at the beauty the world had to offer—she didn't know the world still had something pretty to see.

"You okay?" Birdie asks as she crosses her legs with her rise.

Lassie twists her face to the young woman. If felt too easy. If felt far too easy with these people. With Woodbury, Lassie was already on the wrong side of the fence and she had Merle there with her. With Joe and his _fellas_, she never clicked—even with Adrienne not nearly this well. Something had to be wrong—there was always something.

"Was it like this for you?" she asks Birdie. "When you and Kristian found Georgy… did you feel like this too?"

"I don't know…" Birdie's eyebrows invert as she looks back at Lassie. "What does it feel like?"

"Home," she says softly. Lassie shakes her head. "But… I know it's not. I know you guys are strangers… I know I'm a stranger," Lassie says with her eyes wide. "But I still feel more at home here than I ever did anywhere else."

Birdie smirks. "My mom used to say home wasn't a house or an apartment or even a structure in general. She said home was wherever love was—be it family, friends or lovers." She nods her head. "When I saw Georgy for the first time since all of this, I felt complete. Kristian and Georgy were my home long before all this." She shrugs. "I never thought that the people from our groups merging would one day be thought of as family… but they are. The one's we've lost on the way… the one's who stuck around—even the one's who left—they were all family; all home." Birdie nods. "Maybe that's what this group is doing to you. You're starting to see us as something more than just survivors."

Lassie nods her head shallowly.

"If it helps," Birdie adds as she places a hand on Lassie's shoulder, "I saw you as more than _just_ a survivor the moment you opened your mouth and told Dean and me how kids can't be kids anymore." Birdie shrugs. "You can't say something like that and then expect to be a background character in my story of life. I know enough about you that I feel comfortable to do stupid things around you like that run." Birdie furrows her brow. "Do you know how long it took for Kristian to see that part of me again?" She shakes her head. "You should feel lucky." Birdie smirks. "Not many people get to see me without my shell," she adds.

Lassie nods her head and smirks. "But you're weird all the time—," a hand smacks Lassie side.

"Am not," Birdie laughs as Lassie rubs the pain away.

"Of course not, what was I thinking?" Lassie says with sarcasm. "Someone describing a bloody death in front of two li'l kids is perfectly normal—,"

"Oh, come on… give me some slack," Birdie says as she rises from the gravel. "I was still buzzing from the adrenalin."

"Just face it Birdie; you're a very strange person," Lassie says as she pushes her hair back.

Birdie lets out a laugh but cuts it short as the two girls hear a holler from the trees. Lassie is the first to rise. Birdie then stands; her hand on Lassie's shoulder as if the touch is to remind her she is awake. Another holler sounds; closer; not undead but definitely dehumanized.

Like a bullet ripping through flesh, a body comes flying out of the bushes and both the young women scream. The dirty fleshy mess trips onto the gravel road; her clothes are torn, the soles of her feet black from soot and dirt. Birdie takes a half step back and Lassie hunches over for a better look. Her dark eyes curiously trace the body. Old dried blood stains the little fabric left on the woman's body. She shakes with each breath; her skin pulled taut across her bones.

"They're coming," the body nearly whispers. Lassie's skin crawls with the words.

"Who's coming?" Birdie asks in a hushed tone as she takes two slow steps closer. The woman lowers her face to the gravel as her eyes close. She was tired—exhausted.

"Who's coming?" Lassie barks out making Birdie twist to her before looking back at the strange woman.

The woman's blue eyes widen with fear before she shakes her head and sobs. "No… no… don't let the take me back," she cries as her hands reach out towards Lassie's feet.

"Who's coming?" Lassie asks again; her voice soft like satin as she kneels down to the woman's side.

The woman's eyes widen with fear as she stretches her neck out and faces Lassie. "The Wolves," the woman says.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing and what I could do better :)**

**Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!**

**~MsBBSue**


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